A Different Decision
by Twilighter
Summary: What might have happened had Edward gone to Bella's home that first day, rather than to Alaska.
1. Wrong Turn

Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Series. And I never will.

A/N: For those of us who've read the first chapter of Midnight Sun, you know that at the end, Edward is debating which path he should take. Strength or weakness. Alaska or Bella. This is what would have if Edward takes that wrong turn, and Bella pays the price.

-Lisa

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**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

I added the chopped peppers and onions to the frying pan, which was already heating the oil. There was a hissing sound as they met the hot bottom. I raised the spatula, idly flipping the contents of the pan as they sautéed. It smelled good, but I wasn't hungry. I hadn't exactly had the best of days.

My mind went back to the lunchroom, to when I had openly stared at the striking boy who sat across the room, surrounded by his beautiful family. When he looked at me then, there was only curiosity, as well as a slight boredom – but hey, it _was_ school.

Then I thought ahead to biology, to his menacing, hateful glare that had been both unwarranted and unprovoked. And I wasn't just seeing things; Mike had noticed it as well. What had _I _done to _him_? Nothing.

I decided that he wasn't worth the trouble. If he wanted to hate me for no apparent reason, well, then that was up to him. I wouldn't care.

And yet I did.

I _really_ did. I didn't like it when people hated me. I hated fights; I avoided confrontations at all costs. I went out of my way to be nice and polite to everyone I knew.

And it didn't help that I was, in fact, attracted to the perfect, bronze-haired boy. It didn't help that I was now forced to sit by him in biology. It didn't help that I was so irrationally fascinated with him, and that I cared what he thought, more so than the others who had befriended me today.

I sighed, moving the food around, flipping it, and lowered the heat on the burner. I put the spatula down and turned away from the stove.

And I abruptly found myself face-to-face with someone none other than Edward Cullen.

The boy I hardly knew. The boy that hated me. "What –?" I staggered backwards a step, nearly banging into the stove, my mouth opening in shock and confusion. Was Forks driving me crazy, in the _literal _sense of the word? Why would he be in my _house_? How did he even get _in_?

I knew that Charlie wouldn't be home for another hour. I knew that the closest neighbors on either side of the house were over a half-mile away, and they would never hear me scream. Not that I could. I couldn't even _breathe_. I was frozen as I stared up into those cold, hateful eyes. His strong jaw was clenched tightly, the muscles of his cheek straining. His nostrils were flared, and his lips were pulled back into an evil grimace that marred his pale, handsome face.

I could see some sort of indecision raging behind his flat-black eyes. "Just a girl," he whispered to himself, a look of deepest loathing in his eyes. "Just a girl." Did that help me or hurt me, in his mind? But the conflict was almost over; his better half was about to lose. He would hurt me, that much was plain. And I didn't even know why.

It was then that my survival instinct kicked in. I found myself running for the archway that led to the hall, to the front door, to my car, to safety. I knew I had no hope of getting there. Even at my best moment, I was still unable to run without falling.

But I didn't even make it a few feet before stone arms wrapped themselves around my waist in an unbreakable and immovable grip. That was when I knew for sure that this was no hallucination. He felt too solid and cold _not _to be real. The chill from his skin seeped through the thin cotton of my shirt, colder than any human skin should be. I kicked and struggled, but he effortlessly twisted me around to face him.

His eyes once again captured and held mine, and I became mesmerized by them, drawn in by the lure the presented. My mind knew I should run, but I couldn't. My movements slowed and my body wouldn't respond to the urgent commands that my mind issued.

His expression changed, and he looked at me with softness in his eyes, a desire, a hunger – a thirst. He pulled me closer, holding me to him, as if he were trying to absorb my heat, to bring life to his cold body. He was a statue, his surface unyielding under the pressure that my form placed on his.

He let out a soft sound, almost like a purr, which snapped me out of my trance. Was he here to murder me? Or to rape me? My struggle resumed and I thrashed, trying to pull away from him. But I gained no leeway. He didn't flinch, didn't move an _inch_ as I attempted to get away. I was too panicked to scream, but my mind shouted for him to _let go_ over and over again.

One arm ensnared my waist, securing my arms to my sides, unbending as an iron clamp. The other hand reached up to my shoulder, to my neck, sweeping my hair from my throat, cradling the back of my head. He tilted my face away with inexorable force.

I squirmed, trying fruitlessly to make him let go, even less coordinated as my body trembled from fear. But he detained me in such a way that I could barely move. He lifted me off of the ground effortlessly, pulling me towards him. His nose skimmed my jaw, inhaling deeply. He pressed his lips to my neck, and they too were just as cold and hard as the rest of him.

The feel of his lips was suddenly gone, instantly replaced by a sharp pressure and pain. There was a slow pulling sensation that spread throughout my body, and I was suddenly lightheaded. There was a pounding in my skull, and dark spots filled my vision.

I finally found my lips, too late. "Please, stop. Please…" I begged pathetically. My mouth formed the words, but I was unsure if I actually made the sounds.

I felt his hand move to cradle the back of my head, gently stroking my hair, as I fought to stay conscious, like he was trying to comfort me, or to quiet me. I felt as if razor blades had punctured deep into the skin at the junction between my neck and shoulder. The pull, I realized, was my blood leaving my body.

My body was completely limp, fully leaning into him. There was no fight left in me. I was going to die.

As the darkness closed over me, I heard a sound – wood splintering, and shouts coming from the direction of the hall, I thought. It sounded far away, muffled, as if I had pulled a pillow over my ears to drown out the noise. It seemed out of place in the warm kitchen. I had accepted death, and the calm, peaceful silence had been welcoming me towards the end.

I could feel the stone chest I was leaning into quiver as a deep growl made its way to my ears, similar to that of a dog when someone tries to take away its food. The arms around me tightened painfully.

My eyes closed. I no longer had the strength to keep them open. My heart was beating sluggishly, and I grew closer to death with each beat. To my surprise, the pulling sensation stopped along with the pain, and I felt Edward's head pull away from my neck.

"You don't have to do this, Edward. Don't kill her." The voice was soft, male and unfamiliar. It was hard to hear over the continued growling, which was louder now. It sounded like the person was in the room with us. The unknown man did not say anything more, and I again felt a pain in my neck, the numbness gone.

I thought at first that Edward had bitten me once more, but this was different. It felt like someone had pressed a hot poker to my wound, stabbing me with it. I let out a weak, involuntary cry of pain. The feeling was focused, pinpointed on the area where I was bitten, a flame burning my skin, traveling inward, searing along my veins. Another moan escaped my lips.

The arms that had been gripping me so possessively loosened slightly. I could feel his breathing. It was shaky, coming in short gasps, fighting for control. I could feel his muscles tense with indecision and I could sense his unwillingness to let me go. His trembled with the effort it took not to give in. He wanted to take _all_ of me to satiate his own twisted thirst.

And I _wanted_ him to. I couldn't think about anything besides the fact that I was desperate for him to finish what he'd started, to kill me and grant me an escape from the pain that was beginning to spread like wildfire. The flames seeped into my throat, making it hard to breathe. My choking breaths seemed to loosen Edward's hold even more.

"Please, Edward. Let her go."

My body tensed, trying to ride out the newest wave of pain that was flooding me. The unbearable heat and my struggle against it had brought a sheen of sweat to my face. My eyes opened as the blaze flared again, and I screamed. I heard a heaving sob, one that was not mine, but one I could feel.

Edward. The boy I hardly knew. He was crying. He was sorry for what he'd done. Why couldn't he just kill me? Why was he letting me feel this pain, if he regretted his decision to hurt me? Why couldn't he just end it?

Tears started to fall, blurring my already-clouded vision. I writhed in his arms, which were no longer restraining, but supporting. I felt another pair of arms lifting me, carrying me, balancing me as I cringed in agony. There was no way out. I just hoped that the flames would consume me sooner rather than later, killing me as fast as possible.

Burned alive…it now had my vote as the most painful end imaginable.

As I was pulled away by this second person, I glimpsed Edward's face. What I saw was shocking. His eyes were now a frightening, demonic shade of crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood. I know I should have been scared. But I only felt sorrow – his features were twisted in pain and regret. I tried reached out an arm, unthinkingly wanting to stop the agony of something so beautiful…but my body tensed, my arm going rigid and my hand curving into a fist, fingernails cutting deeply into my palm.

Suddenly all I could do was scream.


	2. Mindless Self Indulgence

Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Series. And I never will.

A/N: I'm a naturally slow writer, and because I was unhappy with this chapter, I was having an even harder time getting the story out. So…I've redone it. I filled in some parts that I felt were missing, and I think it's a lot better. Feel free to review, everyone, 'cause I love it. Thanks for reading.

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**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

Fire was everywhere. The sky, the ground, the air, _everything_ burned me relentlessly. The flames were all around me, even _within_ me, working from the inside out, twisting, writhing, torturing me until I couldn't think.

And it didn't stop. It only spread.

It held me in its grip for what seemed like forever. I was being slowly burned alive. Tendrils of fire curled under my skin, trailing along my veins, unhurried, _lingering_…

For the longest time, I was unaware of my surroundings. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I could only feel. From my scalp to my fingertips to my toes, I felt each flicker, each wave of pure agony. Sometimes the flames roared, driving me insane with their intensity, their absolute _fury_. They shocked my body, forcing me to scream. And sometimes the embers merely glowed, slow and methodical in their torment. But the fire never went out completely.

There were times when I could focus enough to think. Just brief moments, really, when the fires calmed just enough for my mind to get its bearings. It was during these instances that I could hear voices, recognize the fact that there were others around me. A man was speaking – to me or about me, I couldn't be sure. I heard my name more than once, alongside other, more terrible, unbelievable things.

I heard whispered apologies. I heard him telling me that he was…not human. And that the pain was because he was _saving_ me, making me like him. I didn't believe him. Monsters were the stuff of legend.

I couldn't tell how long I had been in this state. It could have been minutes, or days or years. But painstakingly, almost reluctantly, the agony was beginning to loosen its grip. I was growing stronger. I could actually concentrate on the words that I heard.

"The search is continuing, but they have no leads," said a female voice. It was light and high, like a bell. Her tone was hushed, as if she didn't want to disturb me.

"Good. When will it be done?" said the male voice.

"Soon. Just under an hour. Her screaming stopped – the pain is lessening." I felt something cold squeeze my hand, then let go. "Good luck, Bella." Footsteps sounded softly. A door closed.

"It's okay. It will be over soon," said the man. Another cool hand touched my forehead. It felt welcome, soothing the heat. "The fever is going down." The fire was going away. I felt relieved. But what came after the fire? What would happen to me?

There was silence for a while. I felt the hand in mine again, but it no longer seemed so cold. The fire was, slowly but surely, departing. It seemed that time was being deliberately slow, forcing me to endure much longer than necessary. But then, as abruptly as they began, the fires died.

And for a moment, the world just stopped. Time was suspended. Everything was still. My body, my breath, and – I could swear – even my _heart_.

I opened my eyes.

I was overwhelmed, at first. What I felt was very much how I would imagine a blind person would feel, having miraculously been granted sight. It was if I had never seen anything before this, as if I were sightless from birth compared to what I could see now. It was sensory overload. I could see, and yet I couldn't. The color, the detail, the movement…it was too much. I didn't know _what_ I was seeing. I tightly shut my eyes against the images.

That was when the urgency struck. The desperation. The need. I'd never felt anything like this. My body started to move of its own accord. My eyes opened, nearly blind to the figures that stood close by. Why bother with them, when they just moved out of the way? They didn't try to stop me.

I didn't know what my body required. After all the torture it had endured, this was something new, and equally unwelcome. It is strange, to know that you desire something and not know what it is. All else emptied from my mind, save that one goal: I was to get whatever my body was demanding of me, regardless of the cost.

I shut my eyes, knowing that my body would guide me. The encroaching darkness pressed down on me from all directions, caressing my skin in the most delicious of ways. Aside from the insistent craving, the world felt like perfection. Grace shot through every move my body made. Textures flowed under my feet, air spun over my face as I moved with a speed that should have been unattainable.

The next thing I knew, I was out in the open, no walls, floors, or ceilings. There was a sudden, palpable temperature change, but it made no difference to my skin. I couldn't even tell whether it was hot or cold…just that it was different.

I inhaled deeply. Everything smelled fresh and appealing, and concentrated in such quantities that I could identify them unerringly. The sweet, crisp perfume of the forest was soothing. The air was scented heavily with rain that had yet to fall. And then there were other, unrecognizable scents.

_These_ were the ones that easily drew my body forward, pulling me in, filling me with a near-violent need. And it was _these_ that stood out the most, even with the heavy musk of pines and hemlocks and maples shrouded over everything. They smelled simply enticing. My body now knew where it wanted to go, and I had no doubt that wherever it would bring me was where I needed to be.

Inside my mind, the world was empty. There was just that one driving force, telling me over and over again that I had to appease the building fire in my throat. It was a whisper in my ear, foreign and malignant, a sentient manifestation of all the selfish desires I have ever had. It urged me to just _give in_.

More and more, I realized the loss of control I had. I knew that I would be unable to stop my body; I wasn't even tempted to try. But in that was a sense of freedom; I could choose to govern my life not by right or wrong, but by what I _wanted ­_– by that whisper in my ear, my own personal demon.I was hanging by a thread, and it would be so, so easy to let go.

It didn't take long for me to arrive. Where, I didn't know. But I felt myself move swiftly, ensnaring something soft in my hands, its warmth seeping into my palms. It was the source of the tantalizing fragrance that had brought me here. It moved fitfully. I wondered what it was.

The moment I felt my lips come into contact with the warmth, its movements slowed. My mouth met no resistance, my teeth sliding into whatever it was as smoothly as butter. A loud cracking sound met my ears, and I could feel the vibrations of it moving through me. The thing in my hands fell limp.

I inhaled deeply. In the same action, something smooth and hot poured into my mouth, the same thing that was pulsing comfortingly under my lips. In that moment, everything, every single sensation I felt, climaxed. I thought I would quietly die of pleasure.

The taste was unbelievable, a balm on my afflicted throat… extraordinarily luscious, unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. The scent was tantalizingly sweet, so much so that I had no choice but to breathe it in again. The warmth seemed to increase exponentially under my grasping fingertips, and yet, even as it did, it felt fleeting. The delicious heat drained slowly and surely, as did the liquid that flooded my mouth. I savored the last of it, feeling slightly irritated as it became clear that none was left.

I was not yet satiated.

My body drew me forward again, and then again after that. It was only after the heat fled into me for a third time that the lone thread connecting psyche to body strengthened, weaving me together securely once again. It was only then that I became whole, fully in control of my body and actions once more. It was only then that I opened my eyes.

The strange change in my eyesight did not carry as much shock as it did before. Compared to the previous strength of my eyes, it was as if I were going straight from a fuzzy, black-and-white television to a high-definition, color display. _Everything_ looked different. I could see things I couldn't see before. I could see the minute details of a tree a dozen yards away. What before I would have seen as uniformly brown, I now saw the bark as if it were a book just under my nose. I examined the jagged cracks where the outer covering had chipped, creating parallel shadows on the smoother wood underneath. I observed the uneven, scratchy surface, darker where the recent rain had yet to dry.

I took a step forward, wanting to see it even closer, wanting to press my fingers against the bark to see how it would now feel. The grass was stiff and slick, and crunched beneath my bare foot. It was a strange feeling, to be completely stable. There was an internal balance within me that had never been present before, when the world always seemed to turn on itself, leaving me with scraped hands or a bruised bottom. I felt like I would never fall again.

It then occurred to me that I should be cold. I mean, it was _January_. Winter. In northern Washington. I could _see_ the grass coated in frost. I could feel the crispness of it under my toes. But where was the cold? I didn't even feel a chill.

Maybe this was a dream. Surely what had just happened seemed dreamlike enough…running so freely, tasting, feeling without bounds. And then…before that. The nightmare. The pain. I had been burned alive, but no one had helped me.

I stretched out my hands in front of my face, flipping them palms-up, then back again, looking for evidence of the fire. There were no marks, charred black flesh or angry red welts. The skin was milky-white, as if I had never once seen the sun. And the nails that were perpetually bitten to the quick were now rounded and smooth, like they had been carefully manicured. Blue-green veins tangled just below the surface, branching off, twisting in different directions. I clenched my right hand into a fist and the skin pulled tight, forcing the veins to stand out even more. I traced their pattern, confused by how pale and hard the skin had become.

Everything was different. But different from what? I searched my mind for my life before the pain had started. It was hard, much harder than it should have been, to draw forth my memories. There was a dreamlike quality to them; if I didn't recite them in my mind fast enough, they would fade away until I couldn't recall them at all. As it was, that which I _could_ remember was blurred and out of focus. The minor details were lost. I had the aerial view, the big picture.

The last, fully clear thing I could remember before the agony was the boy. I recalled his skin, bone-white, nearly ready to fade into the background. His touch was icy as death, hard and unmoving as stone. His eyes, so black that you couldn't tell where iris ended and pupil began, were filled with emptiness, everything good consumed by darkness. He had hurt me. But he didn't want to. I could tell. Then, as red and glowing as hot coals, his gaze had met mine one last time…

My head hurt from the chaos of the memories and the confusion and the fear. I had no idea where I was, or what had happened to me. I didn't know where the others were, those who did this to me. There were some many blanks, so many questions unanswered. The safest, most comforting thought that I had was that this could all just be a dream. That this wasn't real.

That it _couldn't_ be real.

I took a step back, nervous and uncertain. Usually dreams weren't so vivid. That I could remember, at least. But then, I might not even remember this if I woke up. _When_ I woke up.

My foot, instead of hitting the ground, came into contact with something yielding and unexpected. I quickly took my weight off of that foot, twisting around to see what I had stepped on. My eyes alighted on a small doe. Its neck was bent at an odd, unnatural angle. Blood seeped from a wound near its shoulder. The legs were curled up against its white belly; one of the hind limbs was cracked. I knelt down, dismayed. It looked so weak. So innocent.

I sighed with the breath I hadn't even realized I was holding, pitying the poor creature at my knees. I inhaled, wondering offhandedly how I had gone so long without air. But then, this _was_ a dream. Being so close to the ground, there was less wind. With that breath I took, I could smell the earthy scent of the soil. And the fresh scent of the grass. And the doe.

I scrambled away from the dead thing. Coming faintly from the animal was the sweet smell that had once called to me. In death, it was turning sour, repulsing me. _I_ had done this wicked thing. I remembered the cracks I'd heard – breaking of bones and neck. The warm liquid – _blood_.

I shuddered violently away from the prone form of the deer, feeling so sick with myself that I nearly retched. I turned away, hiding myself from the sight, and noticed for the first time that there were others in the forest. They were silent guardians, watching me and this hideous scene. What kind of nightmare _was _this?

My eyes locked with another's, their eyes seeming like molten gold. They were beautiful, and yet terrifying all the same. I spun around again, taking off into the dark, needing no light to see. The outlines and shapes of the forest were traced by the dim rays of moonlight that filtered through the trees. It didn't matter to me where I was; I just needed to get away.

I tried to run, but they were everywhere, encroaching upon me from all sides. Panic bubbled in my throat. Fear traveled down my spine. My survival instinct was on red alert, warning me away from the creatures that followed me, seemingly determined to capture me.

I didn't know what to do. I was having a hard time now convincing myself that this was a dream – I mean, surely I wasn't _that_ creative. But there was no way that these horrors could possibly exist in the real world. There was _no way_.

"Bella, please calm down. You're not in any danger." It was a tall, blonde man that spoke. He had a light European accent, which caused his words to flow together in a pleasant way. It was the same voice from before, I realized. He stepped forward, and I took an automatic step back. He didn't seem bothered; his face held no frustration, only patience and understanding.

I surveyed the group that had formed around me, effectively blocking off all paths of escape. They were gathered into a horseshoe shape, surrounding me loosely on all sides. I immediately recognized four of the five, pinpointing their unforgettable faces as the ones I'd seen in the cafeteria my first day. It seemed like a lifetime ago that the girl, Jessica, had whispered their names in a scandalous whisper. In truth, I had no idea how much time had passed between now and then.

Alice Cullen stood off to my right, her unruffled, designer clothing looking exceedingly out of place in the forest setting. The black of her hair and her eyes stood out starkly against her snow-white skin. Next to her was Emmett, his menacing build dwarfing Alice's tiny frame. The Hale twins stood off to my left: Rosalie, in all her intimidating beauty, stared at me with something akin to sympathy; Jasper's vigilant gaze was trained steadily on me as he perched on the balls of his feet, wary of me as I was of him.

I blinked. One of the siblings was conspicuously absent.

The male who spoke stood directly in front of me. His hair was blonde, like Jasper's, but several shades lighter – moonlight instead of sunlight. While Jasper seemed a bit daunting, there was not one malevolent thing about this man. There was an aura of goodwill about him, and I felt a wave of calm wash over me.

"Jasper?" His voice came out as a request.

"I know," came his short, quiet reply.

Jasper took a step closer, causing me to take an automatic step back. The way he was so confident, so elegant and unruffled, made me think of a lion. His movements caused his clothing to pull taut against his skin, revealing hard, menacing muscle. He paused, as if sensing my distress. "It's okay," he whispered to me. The feeling of calm increased.

The man, who looked older than the rest, nodded, apparently satisfied with Jasper's response. "Bella, I know that you must be confused. And I promise that everything will be explained." He held out his hand. "You're safe, I assure you. I just need you to come with me."

Trust was something I was sorely lacking at this point. I mean, this man didn't seem like one to break promises, but who was I to judge? Yet I had to admit that there were few better options available; I had no idea where I was, and I was scared out of my mind about what I would do if I came across another living thing.

Strangely, my indecision dissipated in favor of trust. I knew I should be scared, but I wasn't. I _couldn't _be. It was almost as if something was forcing me to accept this, but I didn't know who or what. It was uncomfortable, but that too was quickly erased.

His arm was still outstretched, fingers curled loosely, awaiting my own. I hesitated. But the same mysterious force compelled me to place my hand in his. He tugged my arm gently in the direction we were to be heading.

As we ran, it started to snow. With my eyes open, I was shocked at how much distance I had covered; miles and miles of forest flashed before my eyes, and yet it only took minutes to get to the house. The speed was exhilarating, causing my hair to whip behind me in the wind. Everything came at me so much faster, but I had enough time to both register and avoid any obstacles in front of me. I ran so far, so fast, and my breathing was as steady as it had ever been.

Behind me, whispered conversations were taking place; their voices were muted, so low that I couldn't make out the words. Their talk was just about the only thing that I couldn't hear. The forest crept and crawled and hummed with life. The moaning wind lifted and tossed the naked branches high above, creating a racket as they collided.

Far ahead, my eyes made out a patch several shades lighter than the surrounding shadows, where the forest thinned. And another, brighter patch of white flickered in and out of sight every few strides. A house? The blond male let me take the lead now that I knew where we were going. His hand was still entwined with mine, but his grasp was loose, as if he no longer expected me to run away.

I didn't either.

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Happy Holidays!


	3. Explanations

Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Series. And I never will.

A/N: Happy new years, everyone!

-Lisa

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**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

When we broke free of the tree line, my footsteps slowed as I finally got a perfectly clear view of the house. There were only a few trees, rather than the dense growth of the surrounding area. They were large; their limbs were long enough to shade the entire acre. Through the tall, naturally-growing grass, I could pick out the paths their cars had made between the weeds, though not one vehicle was in sight.

The house itself was beautiful, the complete opposite of the shadowy, haunted house I had been expecting. There was nothing broken or boarded up or dark. In fact, the house was very well-kept, with wide, unobstructed windows that allowed light to penetrate the outside night. It was large, nearly big enough to be called a mansion. It seemed old, but was beautifully restored. The exterior was painted a delicate white, which added to its appearance as an oversized, antique dollhouse.

"This is it," the man whispered. He needn't have bothered. "You don't have to worry. You'll be safe here," he repeated. He was trying to reassure me, to make me feel better. Why would he bother if he meant me harm?

I took a step forward. Once again, the man let me take the lead, as if he wanted me to do this at my own pace. From what I could see, there was a deep porch wrapped around the entire ground level. I climbed the steps slowly, growing more nervous by the second. Abruptly, those feelings calmed.

"Esme," called out the male. A moment later, a woman opened the front door, a kind smile curving up her lips. "We're back."

"Carlisle," she answered. She looked at me, and the smile turned a bit more melancholy, though no less kind. "Bella," she acknowledged me. I blinked, wondering how she'd known my name; I didn't recall ever seeing her before. But then, these people seemed to know a lot about me.

Esme's face, though seemingly young, showed all the love and concern of a mother. Her hair was a rich golden brown, like caramel, or honey. She had all the beauty and grace of a queen. Like Carlisle, though still very young, Esme seemed older than the rest – probably his wife. She backed out of the doorframe, giving us room to enter.

The inside of the house was just as elegant as the exterior. It looked as if it were decorated by a professional. The walls were all a bright white, which made it seem even larger and more open. The furniture was tasteful and well arranged across the hardwood floors. Though the décor was minimal, it fit. Anything more would have seemed excessive.

"This way, dear." Esme said softly. She showed me into what I assumed was the living room. I was stunned by her absolute normality in dealing with the situation; one might've guessed that this kind of thing happened on a daily basis here. But then again, it might have. I didn't know for sure.

I let go of Carlisle's hand, and sat perched on the edge of one of the sofas at the far end of the room. The calm feeling was there again…but it still wasn't enough to make me relax completely. It just dulled my instinct to run far, far from here and never come back.

Everyone sat down; the rest had followed us into the house. Jasper stayed close to Alice as she sat on a couch, his eyes less cautious now, but still very focused. Emmett and Rosalie lounged together in one of the armchairs, looking perfectly at ease. And Carlisle and Esme stayed together as well, looking like they were about to inform a child that there was no such thing as Santa Claus.

Carlisle took a deep breath, folding his hands together and bracing his elbows on his knees. "Well, then. Let's begin."

My question was quick and immediate: "What did you do to me?" I asked bleakly. I really wasn't expecting the voice change; I should have, considering all else that was different about me now. I hid my shock, making my voice low, determined and confident. I sounded more feminine, somehow. My voice was softer, smoother and more clipped than I could ever recall it being.

Carlisle ignored my question at first. "I want to apologize. You must understand that we never meant for this to happen. It was an accident, and –" I cut him off.

"Stop. Please, just tell me. What's wrong with me? What did you _do_ to me?"

He sighed. "Nothing is _wrong_ with you. You're just different. I'm not sure that there is a delicate way to say this, so I'm going to be frank with you." I was unconsciously holding my breath as he paused. "I'm sure you remember the pain." How could I forget? "It was initiated by venom that spread through your system, healing you, changing you. It essentially killed your body, freezing it in that state for as long as you exist. You were bitten by a vampire. And now you _are_ one."

Clearly, this man was insane. How could I be dead? And a _vampire_? Unconsciously, my hand wrapped around my wrist, fingers pressing down into the skin. Surely those fingers, which seemed sensitive enough to feel even the vibrations of sound on the wind, could detect a strong, vital pulse.

I didn't understand why I couldn't feel it. I mean, I was doing it just like they taught it in gym class every year. Yet there was nothing. I pressed harder. Then I moved my fingers to another spot, increasing the pressure even more.

There was silence in the room. All eyes were focused on me, awaiting some reaction. Any reaction. But I just sat there, my face holding no expression at all. I remained silent. I mean, I wasn't a _vampire_; there was no such thing.

I was a monster, plain and simple.

"I know it may be hard to digest," he said, causing the large one, Emmett to snicker. This earned him several glares from the females of the family. "But it _is_ true." The good doctor was in need of a doctor himself – except his would be of a different specialty. It seemed the entire family was unstable. I thought that maybe I should just play along.

I turned to Emmett. "What's so funny?"

He looked taken aback by my question for a moment. "'Digest.'" He smirked. "But we can't exactly eat anything, now can we?" He found humor in his little contribution. Then he sobered, seeming to realize the insensitivity of his comment.

"Or cry," Alice chimed in, smiling sadly at me. "Or sleep, or dream. Or die." She paused. "Well, at least not of any natural causes."

I nodded. "Ah." The short word had a slightly hysterical edge.

Jasper tilted his head, surveying me with a slightly amused expression. "She doesn't believe us."

"But she will." Alice looked at me with the same sad smile. "Soon."

She was wrong. It was _impossible_ to believe. It was more likely that Santa Claus was real than that I was a vampire. A mythical creature. A member of the undead? What outrageous stories could they come up with next? And yet...

The fact of the matter was that I had just drank the blood of innocent creatures. And _enjoyed _it, hungrily, willingly. Although it was so irrational, so unreasonable to think that these thing had happened to me, the only real explanation for it was the one they were giving to me. What other way out did I have? What other option could I believe? My mind came up empty.

Carlisle continued on as if there was no interruption. "Traditionally, it is our responsibility to teach you until you gain enough control that you are in no danger of revealing our secret."

"We teach you the ropes. It's harder than it looks," Emmett said with a mock-yawn, stretching luxuriously.

"For now, since you are under our care, you will _only_ hunt animals. That is our way. If you decide, when the time comes, to…go your own way, we won't stop you," Carlisle said. If what he said was true, I would _never_ do such a thing.

"You mean, kill humans?" He nodded, face smooth, not judging me either way. I shook my head feverishly. "That's…no. I don't want that."

He sighed, but permitted himself a small smile. "That's good to hear. But this life is difficult. You may feel very differently after a while." I grimaced. I doubted it.

"Not that we're discouraging you, Bella. Of course we want you to stay," Alice said. Esme nodded with her.

I disregarded their offer. "You said, after I can control myself, that I can leave, right?" I asked hopefully, desperate, making Alice pout.

Carlisle grimaced. "Well yes, but –"

"No, no," I interrupted. "You don't have to worry. I won't tell anybody. I _promise_. You can let me go," I assured him. Anything to get away from them.

He frowned. "It doesn't work that way. Let's say, for one moment, that I was to let you go. What would you do? You would go back to your normal life, to your father and your school and your friends?"

"Yes." Was he going to let me go? "I wouldn't give anything away. I wouldn't tell."

This time it was Rosalie who spoke up. "You know, when I first changed, all I wanted was to go back to my old life." She smiled, her eyes wistful. "I would have given anything. But I couldn't." Her voice was hard.

"Even the most oblivious humans would notice the changes in your face, your eyes, and your voice, Bella. Not to mention the speed and the strength and the ability to see and hear well above human capacity," Alice said.

"Bella," Esme said. "There's something else you need to know. After the accident, we had to put together evidence that suggested that… you were dead. There was no body, of course, but they have little hope of finding you alive. They've been searching for the past few days, but there's no trail for them to follow, or any clues, or any traces for them to find."

I sat on the couch, unblinking. "They think I'm dead?" I asked, my voice hollow. I didn't really want the answer. Everybody around me seemed to understand that, and remained silent. I could never see them again – not Charlie, not Renee…I couldn't wrap my head around that fact. To them, I was dead. If they didn't think that already, they would, all too soon. "How long have I been…missing?"

"About three days. It's Friday."

My breath came out in a huff, and my shoulders sagged. "Okay." My voice was high-pitched, slightly hysterical. "So how long until I can be around humans again?" Humans…I wasn't used to not being included in that term. I still wasn't completely sure if I believed…

"It can take some time," Carlisle answered carefully. "Control is an acquired skill. Depending on the person, it can be as little as a year. Usually more."

"But you just can't go back you your family. You're dead to them. In more ways than one," Rosalie reminded me bluntly.

"Rosalie!" reprimanded Esme.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "And you think _I'm_ tactless. Way to be insensitive, Rose." She folded her arms and haughtily looked away.

"But I'm _right_, aren't I? She needs to see the reality of the situation. She can't go back, no matter how much she _wants_ to," she snapped.

I nodded, my eyes not focused on anything. I couldn't believe that all of this was happening to _me_. My life was over. I was dead to the world. I was a _vampire_. The dread returned exponentially. Suddenly, the panic dulled, and became unfocused.

No. I didn't want that. I _wanted_ to feel. I clutched my face in my hands. "Stop it." I commanded. "Stop whatever you're doing to my head. I can't take it."

Through my fingers, I saw Jasper and Carlisle exchange a glance. The odd calm faded, but some of the anger and the fear and anxiety did too. This time, though, it was me working through my problems. I sat up again.

There was pity in each and every one of their eyes. Alice stood up and walked over to where I was seated. "Alice…" Jasper cautioned. She disregarded his warning and sat down on the couch, right next to me.

"It's okay, Bella," she soothed, patting my back with her tiny hand. She looked at Carlisle. "I think that's enough information for now," she scolded him. "It's a lot to take in." Alice turned back to me. "I'll show you upstairs."

Alice tugged on my hand, leading me like a child, though I was taller than her by almost a foot. She took me up the stairs. At the second floor landing, I paused, staring up at a large, hand-carved wooden cross. Seriously…a _crucifix_, in a house full of vampires - after all the bizarre things I'd faced today, that inconsequential detail was the final straw on the proverbial camel's back. Alice looked back at me, and followed my gaze. She smirked, rolling her eyes.

"Carlisle is pretty religious. His father was a pastor," she explained, walking on. "And I told you, we can't die. A cross can't harm us. All the legends about vampires aren't true…we can't be killed by any means save death by fire. Otherwise, our bodies just come back together again. The only things that could damage us in the first place are other vampires. Crucifixes, holy water, garlic, sunlight –" she snorted "– have no effect on us. Nearly all of those myths were fabricated, probably by real vampires. So you don't have to worry, Bella. Come."

We turned down the hallway and walked into a large room. The walls were white, and the space was decorated in hues of black and gold. A large, expensive-looking black stereo rested in one corner of the room. The wall opposite wasn't a wall at all; rather, was just one large pane of glass – a floor-to-ceiling window. Another wall was almost completely concealed behind rows upon rose of shelves, each full of CD's, and even some old records.

The place had to have been decorated by a minimalist; the only furnishings were a desk and a long, black leather couch. It didn't look like a bedroom at all. I turned to Alice.

"You can stay here, if you want. If you don't like it, there are a few other rooms…"she said politely. I shook my head, not really feeling like talking anymore. The room was fine. I turned to look out of the window.

To my surprise, Alice didn't leave. She closed the door and walked over to the couch, sinking down into the cushions. I remained were I was, my eyes searching over the rich expanse of forest that my view afforded me.

"You might want to clean up," she told me. I looked at her, not understanding why, exactly, she was still here. She was going out of her way to be nice to me. It was like she was trying to be friends, or something. Alice was so casual about everything that was happening, like there was nothing to worry about. It was like she knew everything would turn out okay. She was lying on her stomach, arms crossed on the arm of the couch. With her chin resting on her folded hands, she looked like an innocent little girl.

Her eyes were focused on my clothes with distaste. I looked down at myself, half-expecting to be covered in blood and gore. My clothes were the same as I had thrown on for that first day of school. They were ragged and damp, in a considerably worst state than I remembered. My shirt was torn in several places, littered with threads that had pulled from the fabric. My most comfortable pair of jeans now seemed ill-fitting. The boots I had worn were gone, leaving the hems of my pants torn and dirty from running. But my clothes were just a bit ragged and damp, with a bit of mud splattered across the fabric.

"The bathroom is over there," she informed me, pointing to a door on my right. Besides the entry, there were two others, the last of which was probably a closet. Either that or a room holding who knows how many dead bodies. Whichever.

She followed me into the bathroom. Was it her new job to watch me now? I wanted to tell her that there was no need, and that I wasn't going to run away. I didn't want to hurt anyone. But before I could open my mouth, my eyes were attracted to the bright flash of red that I saw out of the corner of my eye.

I found myself looking into a mirror. I was in the same cold marble bathroom, with the same cold metal fixtures as the girl in the reflection. I was wearing the same clothes, the same horrified expression. But that wasn't me.

As if things weren't bad enough, I not only acted like a monster, but I looked like one too. My eyes were now a vibrant red, glowing crimson like a demon's. I knew that Alice had said they would be different, but I wasn't expecting this. I thought that I would have the same golden eyes as the Cullens. But this…I truly resented my appearance.

Alice stepped up next to me, tilting her own face back and forth, examining her perfect appearance in the mirror. "You know, I never saw my human face. I don't remember my mortal life at all." I didn't know what to say to that. I just glared at my own reflection, staring mournfully at my once-brown eyes for a long moment. Then I turned from the mirror to look at Alice. I knew that if I watched any longer, I would be forced to break the mirror.

I tried to turn the subject of conversation away from appearances. I didn't want to talk about the awful face in the reflection. Sure, I seemed attractive on the outside, but it was in no way worth this price…being a monster. "What did Emmett mean when he said that you will have to teach me 'the ropes'?" I asked offhandedly.

Alice smiled radiantly, delighted that I was making conversation. "Well, he mostly meant control of your bloodlust, as well as your other abilities." I flinched. She ignored it, tilting her head thoughtfully. "He might also have been talking about the rules."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "There are _rules_? What is there, a vampire handbook?" I asked acidly, trying to mask my anger at the whole situation.

I wasn't trying to be funny, but she laughed anyway, ignoring my hostile tone. "No, no, nothing like that. And there's really just the one rule. And you already know it – exposure _must_ be avoided, at all costs."

I clenched my jaw. "No hope of staying inconspicuous like _this_," I said, revulsion coloring my tone. I gestured towards my eyes, and she nodded, her smile widening.

"Don't worry. That goes away in a year."

I was relieved that it would go away, but… "A _year_?"

She giggled. "Yep. But it's not long, in comparison…" She trailed off. Alice was right. A year was definitely not long when you've got eternity ahead of you. Immortal life…talk about a consolation prize.

After a second, Alice went back to the matter at hand. "You can use the shower. The towels are in there –" she pointed to a linen closet "– and the shampoo and soap are already inside."

I blinked in acknowledgment.

"Don't worry about clothes. I'll get you something." She danced out of the room, pausing once to turn back to me. "Oh, and Bella?"

I looked up.

"Don't worry. Things will get better." I watched at her skeptically. "Trust me, I know." I didn't even bother to examine her vague statement, knowing that I would just confuse myself more.

While I was in the shower, I thought about everything I had learned, what I had been able to accept, and what I still couldn't believe. And I thought about the one matter which had not been addressed, but had rather been carefully overlooked.

Edward Cullen.


	4. Blame the Guilty

Disclaimer: All credit goes to the fantabulous Mrs. Meyer.

A/N: I'm _so, _so sorry I took so long getting this one up. Like I said, I write slowly. Plus, midterms week has sprung upon me, along with two weeks straight of basketball practice/games, weekends too. I'm already seriously neglecting my school work. It's really hard to get in writing time. But after this month passes, it should be easier, and I hope to get the next chapter up soon. I already wrote some, and we have quite a few days off for midterms. So read and review, my lovelies!

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**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

_While I was in the shower, I thought about everything I had learned, what I had been able to accept, and what I still couldn't believe. And I thought about the one matter which had not been addressed, but had rather been carefully overlooked._

_Edward Cullen._

Where was he now? Had he left? I didn't think so. From what I could see, the family was very close. They wouldn't have let him go so easily, not without a fight. They had all probably been together a long time; those bonds weren't so easily broken.

I recalled the last time I could remember seeing his face. His eyes…red with _my_ blood, I realized. Just like mine were. Was he as sorry as he had looked? I remembered seeing the pain in his expression. Was it anger at himself? Or sadness for my sake? Would he hate me for being here, and having to deal with me as a consequence of what he did? I didn't know what he felt for me.

I didn't know what I felt for _him_ either. I mean, how _could_ I be angry with him? The call of animal blood was indescribably overwhelming; I could only imagine how much more the blood of a human could be. So I really couldn't fault him for that. But then I was confused: why me? Why was I so different from all the other humans that he interacted with on a daily basis? I didn't know the answers to any of these questions, and it was beginning to frustrate me.

I knew that I some point, I would have to see him. I mean, he _lived_ here. I wouldn't be able to avoid him forever; I wasn't even sure that I wanted to. I felt the perverse desire to ask him all of the questions my mind was forming. However scared that idea made me, I knew that it would have to come about eventually.

When I got out of the shower, a set of clothing was folded neatly atop the desk's lacquered, black surface. It was odd, how everything fit perfectly, as if Alice knew that it would. Out of habit, I started braiding my wet hair, only to stop when I realized that I didn't have a tie. I was about to pull my hair out of the style when I saw one sitting innocuously on the desktop – how had I not seen it? My mind was really on other matters…. But Alice, I swear it was like she was clairvoyant.

After I got dressed, I turned off the lights – another habit. I wondered how I would spend my night, since sleeping was apparently no longer an option. I walked over to the smooth glass wall, so transparent that it almost seemed like there was no barrier at all. Sitting down cross-legged, I spent the rest of the night thinking. I stared out of the – _my_ – window, my eyes sweeping over the forest, memorizing and rememorizing the view. It was really very dark out there; the moon was hidden behind the perpetual cloud cover, and there was not a artificial light in sight. Even _I_, with my improved vision, was having trouble deciphering the shapes that were present in the gloom.

The next thing I knew, the scene before me was getting brighter, even through the heavy clouds. Had I really been sitting there that long? It had passed quickly; I supposed time didn't mean much when you had an unlimited amount, even if I had yet to reconcile myself to that fact. I stood up, expecting to feel cramped after sitting in the same position for what had to have been hours. But my limbs were working smoothly, much to my surprise.

I was wondering what would happen today when somebody knocked on the door, startling me from my thoughts. Again, it was Alice.

"Would you like some company?" she asked brightly.

I was tempted to ask if I had a choice, but I decided against it when a wry smirk marked her features. Maybe she could read my mind – maybe _that_ was how she knew everything. But was that even possible? I sighed internally – I wouldn't deem anything impossible anymore.

"Sure, I guess." She glided over to the couch, resuming her some position from yesterday.

"So last night was a bit of an informational session….and I thought you might have some questions that we didn't cover. Right?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," I admitted. I went to sit on the couch beside her, more comfortable around her than I probably should have been. I almost regarded her as a friend already, which was a bit odd, considering the situation. She twisted into a new position so that she could see me, folding her legs beneath her.

"Ask away," she said, waving her hands in a dramatic, sweeping gesture.

What to ask? There were so many questions I had, about _everything._ I paused, gathering my words. "Well, I'm guessing that…vampires have existed for a while now. How have you gone all this time without being discovered?" It certainly did seem unlikely. I mean, an underground world of bloodsucking demons? It seemed as if it would be a bit difficult to keep that under the radar.

"Well, there was a time when vampires weren't just myths. I wasn't around at the time, so I don't have a firsthand view to offer." She broke off thoughtfully. "But in the past, I'm guessing that the immortals were less…careful about hiding what they were. Predictably, the humans gathered their torches and pitchforks in an attempt to hunt them down, very much like how they went after so-called 'witches' and 'werewolves'. But more often than not, their targets were innocent. Real vampires were far too hard for a human to catch.

"But now…we are far more cautious. And we have developed ways of hiding, taken advantage of modern technology to aid us in pulling out and starting over. It's easy if you know what you're doing," she answered matter-of-factly.

"What happens? If someone _does_ find out?"

Alice sighed. "It doesn't happen often. We don't leave many traces, and it would be rather difficult for a human to catch us doing something incriminating and come out alive." She leaned back against the leather, wrapping her arms around her knees. "But once in a while, some human with an overactive imagination will guess that we're different. We disappear before it becomes a real issue, leaving behind nothing but the memory of us."

I narrowed my eyes curiously. I could tell that she hadn't told the whole story; she'd edited something out. Did she think it would be too unpleasant for me? Too scary? I waited for her to say something more. Alice met my eyes, aware of this. Deliberating, she absently drummed her fingers on her knees. She released the lip she was biting and continued. "We've never really had problems with exposure, as we can practically…see it coming. But sometimes – in the cases of _other_ vampires – it can get out of hand. Outside forces intervene. The threat is eliminated."

"How?"

She sighed again. "How did we get on such a morbid topic?" she wondered aloud to herself. This gave me a brief feeling of satisfaction – I had been right; she _had_ been keeping something to herself. Alice reluctantly returned her focus to me. "It doesn't happen often. But when our collective secret is at risk, the humans that know are destroyed. Sometimes the immortals are as well, for divulging our existence."

My mouth dropped open in horror. Maybe I should have just left it alone. "By _who_?"

"By the closest thing we have to a government. The Volturi. But let's save that for another time, shall we? I want to go downstairs," she finished hurriedly.

What was a _Volturi_? I wanted to ask her more, and yet at the same time, I felt like I really didn't want to know. But obviously this wasn't the right moment. "Okay," I conceded, and watched her get up.

She was halfway to the door when she asked, "Aren't you coming?"

"Oh." I hadn't realized that she'd meant me too, and, to be truthful, I was a bit hesitant to go. But as my only friend so far, I didn't want to offend her. "Sure." Alice smiled and grabbed my hand, turning to skip down the hall while she dragged me behind her.

When we got downstairs, I realized that, except for us, the house was empty. I guessed that Alice really _had_ been charged with keeping watch over me.

She let go of my hand. "I'll be right back, okay?" she told me, her voice echoing in the stillness of the house. "I need to call Jasper." But I could tell that that wasn't all she was trying to accomplish….She wanted me to be alone. Why? "Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of getting some things from your old room that I thought you'd might want to keep." She pointed to a cardboard box sitting in front of the couch before disappearing from the room.

I wondered briefly about exactly why she had left me by myself, but my curiosity got the better of me and I shoved the matter to the back of my mind. I wanted to know what was in the box even though I was a bit hesitant to open it; I didn't know what she'd gotten me and I didn't want to seem ungrateful. I sat down in front of the box and pulled open the flaps, feeling a bit like a child on Christmas.

Looking down into the box, I should have realized….Alice _always_ knew. Inside there wasn't anything big or expensive; rather, only things that nobody would realize were missing. But these just so happened to be the things that mattered to me most.

I pulled out my much-loved, much-abused collection of Jane Austen works, a pleased smile creeping onto my face as I stroked the tattered cover. I probably wouldn't have missed it had I not remembered it, but now I was glad to have it. Just that one book seemed to make me feel more at home. I left the rest of the box alone – it held two more of my worn books, a few of my favorite CD's, and my old high school sweatshirt – and curled up on the soft couch to read.

I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings, absorbed as I was in reading – I'd chosen to enjoy _Pride and Prejudice, _and Mr. Darcy was just about to propose to Elizabeth for the first time. I was completely wrapped up in the story, so much that my actual surroundings almost ceased to exist. So although I _did_ hear when the front door swung open, I chose to ignore it.

When the person who'd entered made no other movement, I got the feeling that said person hadn't exactly wanted to be seen. I looked up. The smile that had been plastered across my face while reading promptly dropped away when I saw Edward Cullen watching me warily from the doorway.

Crap. If my heart was still beating, it would have hammered its way out of my chest. I felt like a doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. But, strangely enough, I was much more nervous than actually scared – imaginary butterflies danced uncomfortably in my stomach as his gaze held mine. I bolted up from my cozy position on the couch, always one to flee awkward, unpleasant situations, but his voice stopped me.

"Wait, Bella."

His eyes – which were, thankfully, light gold instead of crimson – pleaded with me to stay. He walked over slowly, trying not to scare me, I think. He sat down on the couch across from my own. I hesitantly sat down as well.

Edward's face was so open. I could see the sorrow, and the guilt, and the unconscious, desperate wish for forgiveness. There was something missing, though. Not something that I thought _should_ be there, but something that he was hiding from me. And I knew what it was – he had carefully hidden away all traces of the pain, the anger, the self-loathing that I somehow knew were consuming him.

"I hope it isn't too soon to be speaking with me. You don't have to if you so wish; I can leave. I wouldn't want to chase you out of the room. I just thought we should talk." He was so polite and gentlemanly with his words. His voice was soft, repentant. It occurred to me that this wasn't the first time I was hearing him speak.

I remembered the time in the office with as he desperately tried to rearrange his schedule. Trying to avoid _me_. That was just another shred of proof: he hadn't wanted to hurt me like he did. I hadn't known at the time what his reasons were, but now I knew: he'd wanted to stay as far away from me as he could – to _save_ me.

In that moment, I lost all fear of him that I ever may have had.

"I think we should, too."

Edward smiled appreciatively, but then grimaced. He was clearly anticipating me yelling, screaming at him, hating him for what he'd done to me. But I couldn't do any of those things. I simply waited for him to begin.

"I want –" He took a deep breath. "I want you to know how truly sorry I am. Of course I know that no apology can fix or excuse what I've done to you, but you have to know….I never meant for any of this to happen. It was an accident. A horrible mistake. But one that was wholly and completely _my fault_.

"You must understand – you'll see in time – that when you're as experienced as I am, there's a choice. There's _always_ a choice. I could have decided to go to Alaska. I could have decided not to go after you, not to follow you home. But I didn't. I was too weak. I gave in to what I so selfishly wanted, and now look what I've done. It was…my failure, my flaws that cost you your life. And for that I can _never_ apologize enough."

He clenched his eyes shut tightly for a moment, before opening them again to continue. "And you are right in hating me. I'm a monster, a thousand times worse than you or my family could ever be. I'm a horrible, pathetic, sorry excuse for a –"

"Stop." I'd barely registered the fact that I'd said it when he looked up at me, his eyes pained. I knew there had to be some way for me to ease his torment. I barely knew him, but I just hated seeing him that way. "If you think me listening to you berate yourself is going to help make me feel better, then you're sorely mistaken." He cringed.

"Then what will help?" I could tell that he thought I would order him to go far, far away, so that I would never see him again. That I would tell him I wanted him to die a thousand times over. Not only was that what he thought, but it was what he _wanted_. He had a serious masochistic streak.

"Stop hating yourself; I know _I_ don't hate you. And stop wanting to die. The guilt and the regret are bad enough already." He looked confused for a moment, plainly not expecting me to say _that_. But then he looked a bit angry.

"What did Alice say to you?" he asked. He seemed hurt by the fact that Alice would talk about him to me, as if it violated his privacy. But he was wrong; Alice hadn't told me anything.

"I didn't tell her that you were making foolish plans to kill yourself, if that's what you mean," a lilting voice said matter-of-factly. Edward and I both turned towards the kitchen. Alice was back; that phone call hadn't been made from the house, _that_ was for sure. "Either she guessed, or she just..._knew._ Maybe in a similar fashion to how she _knew_ that somebody was manipulating her emotions when she got to the house. And how she _knew_ about _my_ little ability, which she's been meaning to ask me about all day," she added, giving me a knowing look. It was true – I _had_ wanted to ask her, but I'd just never found the right time. And it seemed that my suspicions had just been confirmed.

"What are you trying to say?" I demanded.

Alice smiled. "You're quite perceptive, Bella. More so than most." Cryptic. Very cryptic – what was that supposed to mean? What was the big deal?

I glanced back at Edward; his expression was a mixture of anger – presumably at Alice for so cavalierly mentioning his suicidal tendencies – and curiosity. His emotions seemed to change at the drop of a hat. His head was cocked to one side as if – no, _just like_ he was listening to something. Alice just continued to smile.

Then it dawned on me. "You can read minds." Edward's eyes flickered to mine.

"See? Perceptive." Alice sounded smug.

And then it _really_ dawned on me. "You can read minds?!" I was _not_ comfortable with that. "How is that possible?"

"He's gifted. Just like me," Alice answered for him. "And you," she added as an afterthought. "He can see into the minds of other people. I can see the future. And I'm not quite certain what it is that you can do, just yet."

Edward looked away, contemplating something. He sounded distant, and a bit frustrated, when he spoke. "You forgot Jasper."

"Ah, yes. Jasper can fiddle with your emotions – he can make you calm, or angry, or happy. Among other things." Alice smirked mischievously, making me averse to inquire about what some of those 'other things' may be. Then her expression became a bit more serious. "They're going to be home soon."

Edward turned to look into my eyes, searching them, but not finding what he was looking for. Then he nodded to Alice's comment, and stood up. "I'll get this for you," he murmured, picking up the cardboard box that contained my few worldly possessions, and heading for the stairs. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him back to my room.

Upon entering, I had yet another revelation. Edward's scent – light, masculine, and quite attractive – covered my room. Or what I suspected was _his_ room. "I didn't mean to displace you," I apologized as he set down the box.

Edward laughed a short, hard laugh. "It was Alice's doing, not yours. Besides, I stole your life. Anything you do to me, anything you take…it will _never_ amount to what I have taken from you." His voice was bitter. It was enough to make me think that he _wanted_ to be punished for what he did. I guess that proved my masochistic theory correct.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

* * *

A/N: Don't fret, my lovelies. I know that the Edward part was short – and a bit angsty – but there is a lot more to come. I know many questions have yet to be unanswered, but I'll get to those soon. And remember, the falling-in-love thing is a gradual process. Walls need to be broken down. Obstacles need to be overcome. But don't worry. When the time's right… 

Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!


	5. Red Hands

A/N: Hello again, everyone. You guys make neglecting my schoolwork _totally_ worth it. I got a really good response from everyone, which was way beyond what I expected, so thank you all. This chapter was hard for me to write, because I was trying to develop the plot more – which I'm still having trouble with, so feel free to clue me in to any ideas – but I think I wrote a relatively decent piece. It starts out a bit slow, but there's a bit of excitement at the end. Try not to hate me. I get so nervous before I post...Anyway, here's the chapter.

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

The rest of the day continued in a quiet fashion. But the night greeted me with a voracious thirst.

My second time hunting was no different from the first. There was no control, only base animal instincts guiding me until the thirst was as sated as it could possibly be. This time, instead of the entire family, only Emmett, Jasper, and Alice chose to come; Emmett and Jasper came for strength – so that they could detain me if need be – and Alice came probably for moral support.

God knows that I hated the act itself. It was disgusting, the drinking of blood, and the killing of life with my very hands. But while I hunted, I felt nothing but bliss and gratification. I _wanted_ the blood. I loved the feeling it gave me. And the wicked, twisted voice in my mind exalted the taking of life. It was positively thrilled at the thought of it. And it _dared_ me to imagine what the blood of a human would taste like…

These things only served to sicken me afterwards.

I didn't know how I would ever learn control. Alice reminded me that it was an acquired skill, and that this was only my second time hunting. But I couldn't help but feel disheartened. Maybe I would never be able to be around humans again, and would have to hide away for the rest of my life. For forever, it would seem.

When we arrived back at the house my mood was even blacker than before, despite Alice's obvious efforts to cheer me up. It seemed that she had a fetish for shopping (no matter the item), and had asked me if I would help her pick out clothes online since we couldn't actually go to the stores. I politely refused, telling her that I just wanted to be alone for a while. And for the second night in a row, I spent my time staring out the window into the darkened forest, just thinking.

I sighed. My body was alert but my mind was weary. I hated the fact that I couldn't sleep. I hadn't realized how much of my time it had occupied, or how much I needed those few blissful hours of unconsciousness. But then, they say you never appreciate what you have until it's gone.

I hugged the pillow closer to me, running my fingers gently over the gold fabric. The velvet was very soft under my fingertips. Kind of femme for a guy, I thought, seeing as this was Edward's room. But then I realized that shopaholic Alice probably had an affinity for design as well.

A light fist tapped against the wooden door. I already knew her knock. Light, quick, and impatient. Just like her. "Anyone home?" I turned. Who else could it be but Alice? Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.

"Hey," I mumbled halfheartedly. What could she possibly want? For someone so tiny, she certainly exerted a great amount of enthusiasm. About everything. It was exasperating.

"I just wanted to let you know that you can ask Esme if you need anything, okay?" she told me hospitably.

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"The show must go on, right?" she said in a tired voice. "School. Not that you'd want to go regardless." I realized with a start that it was Monday already. And it had begun exactly the same as yesterday morning: me sitting by my window, and Alice knocking on the door.

"What's wrong with school?" I demanded. It wasn't so bad...if you didn't take math into account. I couldn't believe I was jealous that she got to go to _school_, of all places. It had only been two days, and already I felt like a shut-in. Confinement really didn't suit me.

"Nothing, really," she backtracked. "But you'll realize soon that when you repeat high school enough times, there's seldom anything new or interesting to learn," she warned. "Well, you will if you stay," she amended herself. "And that's becoming a distinct possibility, "she said, her voice dipping low as she gave a rather convincing impression of a carnival psychic.

She really wanted me to stay. It made me feel slightly better to know that _someone_ wanted me. "Aw, Alice. How could anyone ever leave you behind?" I joked.

She walked over and unexpectedly wrapped her skinny arms around me, her head not even reaching my shoulder. "I'm gonna hold you to that, you know." My heart warmed to her even more; Alice was impossible not to like. I was sure that even as a human we could have been friends. I hesitantly returned her gesture.

"All right, off I go. I'll see you later, Bella!" She bade me farewell and left the room, only to reappear in the view from my window seconds later with her jacket on and a bag slung over her shoulder.

I watched as the Cullen siblings trickled one by one from the door to the car in front. Edward was last, the lone wolf in the pack. I wondered why that was; there was something…captivating about him. I couldn't think of any good reason for him to be unattached.

He strode straight up to the driver's seat. For a split second as he opened the door, his somber eyes flashed up directly to mine. The penetrating molten color of his irises pinned down my stare, and the ghost of a blush manifested itself over my cheekbones as I recalled his ability to read minds. That would most definitely be a drawback to living with the family.

He looked away abruptly, but not before some unfathomable emotion clouded his eyes. Then he climbed into the low-riding car in one lithe, graceful movement. And they were off.

How long would things go on like this? How many days, weeks, _months_ of looking out my window were there going to be? Impatience gnawed at me hungrily. I'd spent too much of my time in this house already. I needed to be free. I wondered how long it would be until we started over, like Alice mentioned. How did that work? Where would we relocate to?

_Well_, I thought. _The only way to find out is to ask_. I went downstairs.

Carlisle was sitting on the couch with a newspaper, and Esme sat leaning against him, legs crossed underneath her as she read a novel in her lap. It reminded me of the first time they sat together, in that same spot. I felt like I was intruding; both of them looked serene, so comfortable with each other. For a brief moment, I pictured them sitting at the kitchen table, coffee mugs in hand, still half-asleep and in their night clothes. But they _weren't_ human. They looked up as I entered the room.

"Good morning, Bella," Carlisle greeted me. Esme smiled warmly at me.

I felt a bit awkward, but managed a "Hi."

Carlisle folded the newspaper he was reading and gestured for me to sit down. "Was there something you would like to discuss?" He sounded like a parent, though not like any parent I ever had – I'd rarely seen Charlie, and Renee had been too busy finding herself to act like a mother. I considered her more of a friend than any type of parental authority. It felt like years since I had seen them, rather than days. Their faces were blurred, and I couldn't even remember their voices.

I tried to gather my words to ask him about what was on my mind. Obviously we could not stay here for long, considering the whole not-aging issue. I hesitated before questioning him, not quite comfortable with Carlisle yet. He seemed very…dignified. Beyond reproach.

"I was wondering about what's going to happen next. How long are we staying here? Where are we going when we leave?"

"I haven't really discussed this yet with anyone except Esme, but I was debating remaining here for another month, and then perhaps transferring to Alaska," he responded readily. "We have friends up there that we can stay with. I would like to remain there for a year or two, while you gain some semblance of control."

Alaska. In my mind there were naïve images of igloos and Eskimos and lots of snow. I wondered what it would trulybe like.

"Why a month?" I inquired. Why not just leave now? I would rather begin a new life than live painfully on the outskirts of my old one. My memories of Charlie and Renee, distant as they were, were good ones. But I needed to move on, and those memories would only make it harder to let go.

And yet… I remembered how much I loved them. _Still _loved them. Who would want to forget that? I didn't know what to think anymore.

"It would look suspicious if we pulled out so soon after your disappearance. The police had taken a special interest in Edward after you disappeared," he said, voice dropping lower in apprehension. "Fleeing the area might be construed as an indication of guilt."

"Oh." That was obvious. I felt stupid for even asking. But..."Why did they single out Edward?" They couldn't have known what he'd done. "I thought Esme said no evidence had been left behind?"

"Or so we thought. There was no _physical_ evidence of the crime, but it seems that a certain Mike Newton mentioned to the police Edward's hostile treatment of you on your first day." The midnight-black glare Edward had given me sprang into my mind's eye. I remembered how it had given me goose bumps, and threw me off balance, causing me to trip. And how Mike had commented on it after Biology. "They had no other suspects. No one else stood out. Nobody had a motive. So they targeted him."

"Do they still think he did it?" I asked. I felt odd asking the question. Edward actually _had_ committed the crime, and here I was, worried that he would be caught. Oh, the irony…

"No. They couldn't determine any motive, and all of us served as Edward's alibi… which was supported by the numerous people that had seen him leave the parking lot with the rest of the family in the car." He ran a hand through his hair. "Edward, of course, knew exactly what to say to ease their suspicions." Of course he did – he read _minds_. I wondered how that worked. Could I somehow hide my thoughts from him? I didn't like the idea of him in my head. It was bad enough for _me_ to be in my head. "And moreover, the police didn't think that a seventeen year old boy could commit such a crime and leave behind no incriminating evidence."

It certainly did _seem_ unlikely. But Edward wasn't your ordinary seventeen year old boy. The police didn't know that, though.

"Have they given up? On finding a body, or anything?" I asked, feeling morbidly curious. I didn't know what it was that made it so hard to resist asking about. Maybe I just wanted to know if I would be missed.

My chest was weighted with regret when I realized that the only ones that would were my parents.

"Chief Swan announced several days ago that there would be a reward for anyone with information about your case. But other than that, they've exhausted all the means of searching and investigating that they have."

I went over it in my mind. It was hard to know that I would always be an unsolved crime. A cold case. Nobody would ever know what happened to Isabella Swan.

I wondered if they would let me keep my name when we moved. Or would I become a Cullen, too? I wasn't sure if I would ever be comfortable enough to stop feeling like an outsider. Would I become a full-fledged member of the family? A sister, a daughter?

I couldn't decipher how I felt about it. Esme seemed nice enough. And Alice was certainly making an effort. But I hadn't seen Rosalie since that first rendezvous after my change. And those were just the females.

"What about Renee?"

Esme answered this time. "Your mother flew up here the day after you disappeared. She is so worried about you, even still. She doesn't want them to give up," she comforted me. I could tell Esme wanted nothing more to be a mother for me as well, just like she was to all of the others, whom she thought of as her children.

Their family was very well put-together. Esme, the mother hen, and Carlisle, the leader, both supporting and providing for their family. Then there was Jasper and Alice, and Rosalie and Emmett, going along with the family façade but together and in love nonetheless. The only incomplete, loose end was Edward.

I wondered where I would fit into the family dynamic.

Then I decided to ask something that had been lurking at the back of my mind. "Carlisle? You stopped...you stopped him from killing me. Why did you do it?"

"Why didn't I let you die?" he clarified.

I nodded.

It took a moment for him to answer. "My son can be very hard on himself. I like to think he's been making progress - though this would have set him back decades. More than that - killing you would have destroyed him. I admit, I was protecting him more than I was protecting you," he said honestly.

I didn't really know how to respond to that. So I didn't. We lapsed into a silence again, not quite awkward, but not quite comfortable either. I just sat in the armchair, brooding. It surprised me when Carlisle suddenly stood up.

"I'll see you when I get home, Esme, Bella," he said with a nod at each of us. We watched as he gathered his coat and his briefcase, leaving for work.

And then it was just me and Esme.

Esme set aside her book and folded her hands in her lap – I think she'd been waiting for him to leave. "I know that it's a bit premature to ask this, Bella, but do you think you would consider staying with us permanently, for as long as we are a family?" I didn't know if she realized it, but her eyes were pleading.

I knew that she wanted me for who I was, but there was something else….something that I couldn't place my finger on just yet. "I'm not sure. But I know that I don't want to hurt anybody…so maybe it would be best if I _did_ stay."

She nodded in agreement. "This life _is_ easier when you have others like you for support." She was half-trying to convince me.

"But Carlisle was right, Bella. You may feel differently after a while. You see, our family is not like the most of them. To stay in such a large group is unusual. To live off of the blood of animals is practically unheard of. It's much harder than…than the other way."

"Well, I wouldn't want to take the easy way out, now would I?" I stated wanly.

Esme looked conflicted. "I'm not trying to pressure you, Bella. Please understand. I just think it would be better for you, _and_ my family, if you were to join us."

Then it dawned on me.

I could see it in her eyes. She hated that Edward was alone. And she thought that _I_ could be….

My eyes widened to their limits. "Esme! Whatever plan you have for him, it's not going to work." If I could, I would have been blushing. She was very aware of the fact that Edward was the lone man out….and she thought that _I_ could change that. It would never work. Not in a _million_ years.

Esme looked shocked and a bit sheepish that I had found her out, but shook it off, evidently used to that sort of thing. "Why ever not, dear?"

I wasn't exactly sure about her, but _I _for one was not raised in an era where arranged couplings were the norm. I was very flustered, embarrassed by the fact that she was thinking those things, and even more embarrassed at the possibility that Edward would hear it. "Well, aside from the fact that he hates me…he_ hates _me," I sputtered.

She smiled, nonplussed. "Bella, he doesn't hate you. He – like everyone – is just going to need some time to get used to you."

I just shook my head. She was delusional if she thought that there was any way that Edward – or anyone, for that matter – would _ever_ see me that way. "Can we _please_ talk about something else now?"

She looked at me patronizingly. "Like what, dear?" Anything. Anything to get off of _that_ particular topic.

"Tell me about Alaska. Do your friends in Alaska live the same way you do?"

I didn't realize, but my question could have been interpreted in two ways. "Not exactly. The sisters Tanya, Kate, and Irina, as well as Carmen and Eleazar, maintain a permanent residence in Denali. They don't move like we do. Thus, they cannot participate much in society."

"Do they hunt animals too?" I asked, my meaning clear this time around. I tried to be interested in the questions I was asking, praying for my mind to stop dwelling on Edward.

"Of course. We wouldn't be taking you there if they didn't," she answered matter-of-factly.

Then she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "The sisters will be quite…different from anyone you've ever met. They are very old; they've seen things that you can't even _dream _of. It's made them rather shrewd. And in their time, they've garnered quite the reputation." She said this with distaste. Were these women famous, or infamous?

"Several hundred years ago, they became the progenitors of the legend of the succubi; though of course, their exploits had been going on for long before then. They were notorious for the rather nefarious habit of seducing, and subsequently killing human men."

I gaped at her. These were the people they were taking me to?

It seemed that this topic was proving to be a rather sufficient diversion.

She saw my reaction and gave me a wry smile. "Whatever is running through your head right now is surely what ran through mine upon my first unearthing this particular information. But they really are wonderful people. And they don't kill anymore. Unfortunately though, their distinctive hunting habits endure," she finished with slight irritation.

"If you say they're good then I believe you, Esme."

Her expression warmed and she looked at me fondly. There was a moment of silence - bonding, perhaps? I decided that I really liked her. It didn't matter that she was trying to be my new mother figure - a position that I was sure eccentric, naïve Renee would always claim. Esme was kind and considerate; it came to her naturally, just like her inclination to act on her motherly instincts. I realized that I wouldn't mind living with her so much.

Just then, a rude buzzing interrupted the void of sound. Esme laughed, a young, girlish sound despite her apparent age. We'd both been startled out of our little interlude. "Sorry, I'll just be a moment."

She plucked the offending object - which turned out to be a sleek black cell phone - off the glass surface of the coffee table. It had been spiraling around as it vibrated, inching closer to the transparent edge. She caught it right before it fell.

Esme turned it over to check the caller ID before she flipped it open. "Hello, Alice," she said, a soft smile gracing her features as she kept eye contact with me. Then her eyes opened wider, alert, the whites showing around her iris like that of a frightened horse.

"Esme, you need to get her out of the house _right_ _now_!" Alice whisper-shouted into the phone. Her voice was muted, like she was hiding. Which was probably exactly what she was doing.

Esme stood without a second thought, dragging me up with her.

"What's wrong?"

Alice's light, soprano voice was distraught. "I didn't see. Oh god, it's too late."

By the end of her sentence, we were already out of the house and just about to break into the forest. The distant rumbling of a car drew both of our faces towards the front of the house. Someone was coming down the driveway. They would be here in a minute or less.

"Run, Bella!" Esme commanded, pointing in the opposite direction. I took off, and she flew out behind me, urging me to go faster as she followed. We ran as hard as we could. Esme was lagging behind me several yards, her face a mask of determination and fear as she sprinted, phone still clutched in her hand.

"Shit," I heard her curse. The situation must have been worse than I thought; I was sure that cursing was quite out of character for Esme.

The wind was chasing our backs, bringing with it the distant rumble of the engine and the strong stench of gasoline. The engine cut off and the car door opened. It took a few seconds for the scent to reach me, but it did, carried quickly by the fierce breeze.

I stopped dead, and Esme was in front of my face in a half-second. I turned, ignoring her, to face the way we had come. The wind blew directly into my face, carrying…the most delightful, most luscious smell _ever_. It excited my senses to a degree I never knew existed – it was so, so much better than anything my nose had ever caught before.

My throat burst into flames, despite having been fed only a few hours ago.

She moved back in front of me and turned my head so that my eyes looked into hers. I was seeing, but I couldn't focus. I _wanted_ whatever that scent was, more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life. "Bella! Bella, look at me, _please_. Bella, you don't want it. It's Charlie. Bella, it's your father! You don't want to hurt him," Esme implored me. The only word I could recognize was my name. My name…

Bella. That's who I was. Bella, who once had a life, family, friends, a _future_…. _That_ Bella was strong. She could be stubborn as hell and would never give up if she so pleased. Another fierce gust of wind streaked through the trees, making my hair writhe with a life of its own, sending leaves spiraling and circling around us. That warm, woodsy scent flooded my senses again, and the word_ cinnamon_ came to mind. It was irresistible.

The monster in me roared to be sated, and I was a slave to its will. The old Bella was dead.

Yet I hadn't moved. My muscles were locked and ready to spring, but for some reason had yet to budge. "Bella, we need to go. You can do this. Bella, you _can_ leave him alone. There's a choice, Bella, there always is! That's the single truth that we live by! I need to get you away from here. Come with me, Bella. I promise everything will be fine."

She pulled on my arm, and that's when I snapped.

Esme was no longer a mother figure, or even a friend. _She's the competition_, a voice whispered in my ear.

Who was she to try to take me from my food? How _dare_ she? I bet she wanted the blood for herself.

A growl rumbled in my belly, low and rough, like that of a dog when you try to take its food. She cursed again in panic as she realized her mistake. _Nothing_ could keep me from the blood. Especially not her.

We were still eye to eye, and she was mere inches away. I was practically seeing red, seething as I was with fury. "Bella, calm down. You need to _think_. You're not an animal. No hunger or bloodlust can rule you against your will. Bella, _listen to me_."

My mind was in a frenzy from the excruciating burn that scalded my throat. I needed it to stop.

My body was moving even before my mind could comprehend. My arms flashed out, and my hands met Esme's ribcage, resounding in a noise like rocks colliding and sending her sprawling. I took off to run, but she landed like a graceful cat, and had her arms around me before I made it twenty feet. My arms were pinned to my sides, and I struggled awkwardly to break her grip. It was easier than it should have been in such a position; I was stronger than her. I tasted a victory.

She stumbled back as I broke free, and I again ran back in the direction we came. The scent was _calling_ to me, begging to be taken.

And I was only too happy to oblige.

But this time I didn't even make it a few feet. Her hands grabbed my torso and flipped me onto my back. She held me down by the neck and I strained to snap at her. My foot struck out to meet her chest, knocking her backwards. This time I didn't try to run; I would have to take her down first.

I got up to face her and she was on me again. Her limbs flew out at me so quickly that it became confusing, and I ducked and blocked more than I was able to fight back. Her movements weren't confident; she was obviously not a fighter. Then again, neither was I. But I had the advantage over her in strength. The moment I saw an opening in her defenses, I backhanded her with all of my might.

She landed at a strange angle, letting out a strangled cry as something cracked with the sound of rocks crumbling. I had thrown her to the ground with as much power as I could muster; her form looked haggard and oddly misshapen, as if the force of my blow had crippled her.

I turned without a second thought, disregarding my earlier decision to end it completely. The call of the blood was just too _strong_. I sprinted through the trees, reaching the house in under a minute. A cop car loitered in front, and a form sheathed in blue stood awkwardly, facing the door. The scent increased one-hundred fold.

From what I could see, though larger than me, the prey was weak. Soft. There would be no escaping from _me_, I thought with sick pride and satisfaction.

I sank into a crouch, springing forward as I crossed the final distance to my quarry, fast as a bullet from a gun. My jaw gripped the skin of its neck like a vice, and the hot liquid began to spurt into my mouth in sporadic bursts. Any blood I'd taken as a vampire so far was _nothing_ compared to this. The taste was spicy in a sweet way, and there was no bitterness in it at all. It warmed me to my core, making me yearn for the feeling of it to last forever.

Soft hands pressed uselessly against my face and grip, and I vaguely heard a choked scream that was nearly overshadowed by the sound of squealing brakes and slamming car doors. But soon the thing weakened, as they always do, fighting until they lapsed into unconsciousness. Then the heart stopped beating, and the blood stopped coming, and I dropped it carelessly to the floor like a used napkin. My body was shaking with the desire for _more_.

"Oh, _Bella,_" Alice gasped mournfully. She was standing at the bottom of the porch steps. The rest of the siblings stood near the idling silver car. Following the direction of their gaze, I looked down. And Charlie's glassy eyes stared back.

My mind blanked, save for a single thought.

_Oh my god, what have I done?_


	6. Dead Monsters Make Good Monsters

Disclaimer: All credit goes to the highly-revered Mrs. Meyer.

A/N: Hello, everyone. I've been majorly busy of late – school has been hectic, and I've been busy with basketball (my team went to playoffs, but we lost at the semifinals; good news is, we made the final four teams in the city!), and I've just been so wiped out that I barely had time to sleep, let alone write. But I've finally got it up! Thank you everyone for reading, and please review, 'cause I love it. It makes me want to write more. winks

-Lisa

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: The Twilighter **

"We have to leave."

That was the general consensus.

Carlisle nodded resolutely. "One unsolved murder is suspicious enough. But we cannot have two. They'll be all over us."

There were no easy ways to hide how Charlie had been killed, except for burning or hiding the body. But burning it would have left evidence of foul play. And as for concealing it…two mysterious disappearances couldn't be linked to the Cullens, especially not ones in such close proximity to each other. We couldn't risk anyone looking at us too closely.

"We have no choice but to run."

And so we ran. Or rather, we vanished.

Alice sat me down in a corner that was out of the way, and then proceeded to help the rest of them prepare for departure. From that point on, my life was in fast-forward. Everything moved in high speed. I watched them numbly.

First, they dealt with the body. We could not afford exposure, so it was buried in a nearly inaccessible place in the forest, somewhere nobody would ever find it. If anyone _did_ discover it, there would be no doubt as to exactly how he had died.

After that, they grabbed things that they could not part with and carried them out to the waiting cars. Priceless valuable items were hidden in a secret basement for retrieval at a later time. Suspicious evidence – fake I.D.'s, forged passports and birth certificates, among other things – were destroyed. The next thing I knew, I had been tugged into the backseat of a car, and was staring listlessly through the window as trees flashed by at illegal speeds.

My mind was running so much slower than everything else around me. I couldn't get over how I could feel so _weak_. So vile. So monstrous, so hideous, so completely horrific… that I just couldn't move. I was at a loss to even _begin_ to know how to react to what had just happened.

So I shut myself down. I sagged in my seat, my back curved into the supple leather and my shoulders hunched despondently, neck twisted at an odd angle that allowed my head to lie just above my shoulder. Completely limp, I stopped my breathing and closed my eyes, a perfect imitation of death. I even lacked a telltale heartbeat.

I wondered wistfully what _true _death would be like.

Were there such places as heaven and hell? If I ever died, would I be cast into the fiery pits of the underworld, tortured without respite through the rest of eternity for committing this mortal sin? I laughed humorlessly in my head. Even _that_ would be better than this – at least I would be getting punished for my sins.

For one fleeting moment, I thought that maybe, despite everything, I might somehow make it to heaven. To where Charlie should now rightfully reside. I wondered if it would be a paradise with angels welcoming my soul in through the pearly gates – however cliché that may sound – or if it was just one's consciousness filled with ecstasy for all time, or if it was something else altogether. Something that could not be described with mere words.

I doubted that I would ever get there.

For me, I would be content with even a simple oblivion. I would settle for a void. I would be _more_ than happy to be met with complete numbness the instant my body was destroyed. If only I could obtain that, I would never have to face any of this again. But – for now – I could only pretend.

I wasn't the only one who was suffering. Beside me Alice sat rigidly, her fingernails digging into the leather seats as she berated herself. "So many horrible things, happening all at once," she whispered. "And _all my fault_." Her voice was an even higher pitch than usual. She turned to me. "And now I'm being selfish – it's you I should feel sorry for, not me." What a sad pair we made.

In response, my eyes opened wearily and my head shook of its own accord.

"First you, and now Charlie?" she continued angrily. "That's _two_ mistakes I've made. I've ruined everything. I'm so sorry… I was too late – I didn't see," she slid closer to me. "I'm sorry, Bella. What happened wasn't your fault. It was mine and only mine." She thought it was her burden to shoulder the blame.

Though I knew she was wrong, I couldn't find my voice to correct her.

"Alice, even you can't see split decisions." Edward's voice came from the front, unexpectedly soft and sympathetic.

"Maybe not. But –"

"No," he disagreed with whatever she was about to say. "That was my responsibility."

"But if I hadn't been so focused on Jasper, I could have prevented it! And this as well!" She kicked the back of his seat halfheartedly, but it was still hard enough to make a dent. They were confusing me – and right now I couldn't be bothered with trying to figure out a conversation that I could only hear parts of.

I turned my body so that I couldn't see either of them. It was childish, I think, but I had that feeling I used to get when playing hide-and-seek: if I couldn't see them, then they couldn't see me. I pulled my legs underneath me and drew them up to my chest, crossing my arms over my knees, and then leaned my forehead against the glass.

Alice's hand encircled my own vulnerable one, which was peeking out from underneath my arm. I jerked it away from her and held it tight against my body. I couldn't stand being touched just now.

My action seemed to hurt her feelings and she pulled back. "I'm sorry, Bella," she whispered again. "She hates me, doesn't she, Edward?" Alice sounded wounded. In the back of my mind, I felt bad for accidentally making her believe that. But still, I could find neither the will nor the energy to inform her otherwise.

"I don't know," he said, sounding distant. Probably reading my mind. I don't know why he didn't just tell her the truth.

For the next several hours, conversation was nonexistent; the only things that could be heard were the low vibrations of the car's fine-tuned engine. Contrary to making me feel comfortable, the low hum of the machine just put me even more on-edge.

My idle mind soon found a way to entertain itself, providing me with one ghastly daydream that took it upon itself to repeat over and over and _over_…

_His eyes were opened wide, looking bloodshot and red-rimmed. His police uniform was wrinkled, and his hair hadn't seen a comb in days. His badge was a dull bronze, lacking the luster it should have had. _

_Soon enough, his heart stopped beating, and then the blood was gone. I dropped his collar and the body fell to the dirt driveway with a dull _thud_. There on the ground, looking paler than he ever had, was police Chief Charlie Swan._

A thousand times again, the image replayed itself in my mind. I couldn't get rid of it. I hated that I could remember the scene in its entirety, as if it was happening just now. The perfect, vivid images refused to leave my head; they were burned into my retinas each and every time I closed my eyes. The noises resounded in my ears. The tastes rose up my throat like bile. I could recall the exact taste, the texture of his blood, and the way it made me feel.

And I hated myself even more.

Finally, after the sun set, I started to cry. I huddled in the corner of the silver car, refusing to let Alice touch me. I could barely breathe. And the lack of tears made me angry. There was no evidence of my misery, no tangible proof that I was sorry for what I'd done.

A short while before we arrived, I'd sobered, not talking or breathing or doing much at all. Immortals couldn't get tired, but nevertheless, I was worn out.

In a ride that would have taken some people – humans – a week (the trip was roughly two-and-a-half thousand miles), we made it in just over a day. Several times we'd had to stop to avoid human interference, but it was never for long.

I knew we were almost there when I saw signs signaling the Denali National Park. I grimaced inwardly, the greedy side of me happy that there would be plenty of wildlife nearby, but my grieving side protested the thought of drinking _any_ blood in the near future.

On the whole, Alaska was very different from Washington. Along the horizon, there were high, snowy mountain peaks and bright blue skies, cleansed of clouds after a recent snowfall. There were not nearly as many trees; it was littered with a modest number of evergreens, whereas Forks was surrounded by dense forests that seemed more like jungles. There was a lot more space for open fields here, and occasional rivers and bodies of water were laced through the land. It was majestic and free compared to the dreary confines of Forks. I would have enjoyed the scenery had I not been so miserable.

Edward's car was in the lead. Over the course of the trip, the others had fallen behind considerably. And so we got there first. We turned onto an unmarked, very overgrown road that headed into the Park, not unlike that which led up to the Cullen's house in Washington. The tree growth was a bit thicker here, and the path was rough and little used. Somewhere in my mind, I was sure that it should not have been there at all. But after many twists and turns, we arrived at a house deep within the heart of the preserve.

It stood in the center of a large clearing, encircled by trees. The house was made of wood and stone, with wide, tall windows, two chimneys, and a wraparound balcony on the second story. The roof was tiered, slanting in wide arches at its different levels, covered in snow. It sat perched on the top of the hill, secluded from the rest of the world – the perfect mountain home.

The car stopped.

For a brief moment, I considered refusing to get out at all. I certainly wasn't in any kind of state or mood to meet new people. But then I realized that I didn't care anymore.

Edward turned the engine off and paused. Alice looked scathingly up at the house. "They know we're here. Why don't they come out?"

Edward's fingers tapped on the console. "They've decided to be coy and wait for us to knock, like _normal_ people." All the way from outside, I heard several airy giggles sound after he voiced his comment.

Then he sighed deeply. "They _refuse_ to open the door until we knock," he conveyed. "I might as well, or else we'll never get anywhere."

He got out and walked guardedly up the veranda steps right to the front door. No sooner had Edward knocked than the door swung open, revealing a beautiful blond woman who looked barely older than I was. "Hello, Irina," he said dryly.

Alice opened the door and exited the car, and I followed docilely behind her. Irina didn't even look at us as she addressed Edward. "Edward Cullen, what a surprise!" She danced forward and kissed him lightly on each cheek. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your _magnanimous_ company?" she asked delightedly, casually resting her hands on his shoulders. Even in the dejected shape I was in, I found my eyes lingering on where she touched him.

He sighed in exasperation, not bothering to dignify her question with a response as Alice and I walked up towards the entrance. It was only now that Irina looked up at us, as if she was only just noticing us for the first time.

She smoothed her hair, which was thick and borderline-curly, from her face. "More guests? Alice, a pleasure." Then her eyes lingered on me. "But I don't believe I know your name, sweetheart," she simpered to me. She tilted her head brazenly, and her eyes sparkled with mirth.

Behind Irina, two more women appeared. One was slightly shorter than her, and more girlish. The last was taller than her, and carried herself with dignity nothing short of a queen. "Tanya," Alice acknowledged the regal woman. "Kate," she said to the other.

"And who is this?" Tanya said, raising her eyebrows appraisingly as she scanned my figure up and down. Twice. "Don't tell me that you've been cheating, Edward. I thought you told me that your heart would only ever belong to _me_." By that point her voice had reached a theatrical lilt. "Oh how my heart burns with grief, to know my one true love hath betrayed me!" The sarcasm in the last part was well-pronounced.

Then her voice abruptly changed from dramatic to casually friendly. "But then again, what's it been? Ten years, more or less?"

Looking at them, it was no wonder that they'd earned a reputation as man-eaters. They had the looks to prove it. Like Irina, Tanya had very long, thick gold hair that flowed down to her waist. However, hers was tinted with red, and looked very intriguing paired with her gold eyes. Her features were sharp and proud, and her eyes were almond-shaped and exotic. But Tanya's gaze held a playfulness that one would not expect from someone with _that_ many years under her belt. From the looks of things, the entire family shared that particular trait.

Kate, on the other hand, was very different from the other two. Contrary to the others, Katrina's youthful face made her look like an innocent girl, hardly the seductress by any standard. She had dark brown hair, and big black eyes that looked at you like a child's. But she shared the same undeniable allure that emanated from her sisters, and to which Edward appeared completely immune. A very small, surprised part of me found that I was relieved at this.

"This is Isabella," Edward introduced, smiling slightly to me in encouragement. "But she prefers Bella."

Tanya smirked impishly, taking in my bright red eyes, and threw me a quick wink. "I never thought you were the kind of man to leave me for a younger woman, Edward," her tone reproving. A trickle of aggravation tried to work its way through my desolation; I knew that Tanya didn't mean anything by it, but it was still rather irritating.

"And I never thought you were the kind of woman to leave her guests out in the cold, Tanya," he said, evading her teasing expertly.

She pouted, though obviously not put out in the least. "Point taken. Welcome back to our humble home, friends."

"Thank you," Alice said politely. The three sisters moved aside to let us through the doorframe, and the one who hadn't spoken yet, Katrina, eyed me furtively. Edward stepped through, and Alice extended a hand to me hesitantly, unsure if I would take it. In my nervousness, I did, and we walked in together.

"And the rest of the family –" Irina began.

"Is on their way. They should be here in under an hour," Alice confirmed.

The sisters led the way into a comfortable living room decorated in an old-fashioned style, with brightly polished wooden furniture and wooden floors covered in rugs. It was the kind of lodge where you would expect a moose head to hang above the stone fireplace, but though there was a fireplace, it had no animal adornments.

"Sit, sit." Tanya gestured to the comfy-looking couch that sat opposite the merrily-lit fire. All three of them piled into an armchair to our left; it was enormous, and looked as if it could seat a bear. "We might as well get comfortable while we wait for them to arrive."

Irina pursed her lips thoughtfully. "If we have a good hour…why don't we get comfortable in the way we know _best_? What do you say, Edward?"

"I say that you should at least _try_ to contain yourselves."

Kate's eyes focused on Edward. "Some things never change," she sighed. "But regardless, I doubt the other Cullen women would relish such a spectacle. Though if you refuse our suggestions, why not tell us why you've come instead?" My mouth nearly dropped open. Katrina's voice was magnetic. It was nothing like what I would have expected from the young-faced vampire; it was throaty and feminine, and there was something about it that drew one in closer, if only to hear a little more…

I shook my head to get rid of the feeling, trying to throw the strange kind of hypnotic power her voice had over me.

"Well, we've had an eventful week," Alice began. "And that's putting it mildly."

Irina dropped most of the immaturity. "Nothing too serious, I hope?"

"No, there was no exposure," Edward verified.

"Is it anything concerning this young one?" Tanya asked, glancing at me. I held Alice's hand tighter, not liking the thought of having my story told to these outlandish strangers. I just wanted to hole up somewhere until I could forget everything that had happened in the past few days. I just wanted a clean slate.

Edward hesitated. Tanya took that as confirmation. "Who turned her?"

"I did," he said surely, but awkwardly. They didn't press for more information concerning the details of my change.

"And then you brought her here?" Irina asked.

Edward shook his head. "No, we planned to stay in Washington for another month, but there was an accident."

His deliberate avoidance of mentioning what that so-called 'accident' was alerted everyone to the facts that, firstly, it was I who had committed said accident, and secondly, they were not to ask about it. They took this in stride.

Katrina smiled and stood. "Come then, Bella. We'll get you settled." Her voice made me rise instantly, and I followed with Alice shadowing me. She led us upstairs. "It's a good thing we have such a big house – at first I thought it would be unnecessary. But we have put it to good use." She looked back at me curiously for a moment. "Although, we usually shelter you under considerably better circumstances."

I flinched.

"Here we are," Kate announced, hand resting on a polished brass doorknob. With a brief smile, she wished me a comfortable stay, and then went back the way we came.

"Thank you," I mumbled after her.

Alice looked sadly at the floor, before lifting her eyes to mine. "I would ask if you wanted company, but…" But she already knew my response. I silently waited for her to say anything more, but she didn't. I turned to open the wooden door, going in and hastily making to shut the door behind me in the least-rude fashion possible.

Alice caught the door just before it closed.

"Everything's going to work out, okay Bella?" This, coming from the fortune-teller who had told me once before that things would get better? The future was arbitrary; nothing was set in stone.

I couldn't speak for a moment, but just watched her optimistic face that was still present beneath the cloud of current despair.

Then I sighed, my breath coming in a rattled gust. My voice, when it finally came, sounded dead. "I certainly hope so."

A/N: Sorry for ending it there. It was already over three thousand words, and I didn't want it to be _too_ long. The angst was necessary, so please bear with me. And I know I promised some Edward-Bella-ness at the end of the last chapter – because I already had it written, and I thought it would fit into this one. Good news is, it fits into the next chapter. Better news is, _that_ chapter's already written. Thus, I will update sometime tomorrow. Or a bit later, depending on reviews. hint hint. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Review )

- Lisa


	7. What's Done is Done

Disclaimer: All credit goes to the fantabulous Mrs. Meyer.

A/N: Hey, guys. Back again, just as promised. Forgive the angst at the beginning – it seemed necessary. Read, review, and enjoy.

-Lisa

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: The Twilighter **

The floor was not the most comfortable of positions, what with the hard wall against my back. But my mind barely registered the discomfort, engrossed as it was in an argument with itself. I was forced to listen, despite how much I wanted to think of something else - _anything _else.

_You_ _killed your father_, mourned the guilty, horrified part of me. Such a simply-stated fact was still so hard for me to believe.

_And you enjoyed it!_ the monster inside of me crowed tauntingly. _That _part of me felt no remorse at all, sparing no regrets for the human being lost. It chose instead to reminisce about how good the blood tasted, and wondered if it could have more anytime soon.

_He gave you _life! my good side cried in accusation.

Sardonically, the monster replied,_ That was a mistake on his part, now wasn't it?_ I sided with the monster on that one. I had been loved by my parents, and this is how I repaid them? I should have never been born. What kind of person was I to kill my own _father_? It was the most horrible thing imaginable.

The voices went back and forth for the longest time, each making me feel worse and worse about what I had done.

Somewhere, in a distant part of my mind, I realized that the rest of the Cullens had arrived. I could hear some conversations clearly, but others were too low to make out. I heard Esme's voice, and immediately felt another stab of guilt.

_The only things that could damage us in the first place are other vampires,_ rang Alice's words in my mind. How badly had I hurt Esme? When I'd run from her, her body had looked distorted. There had been no blood, no broken bones – that was human injury. I guessed that I'd struck her hard enough that the stone we were made from became warped. I hoped she was okay now…her voice sounded fine.

But would she forgive me?

I felt a knock vibrate down my spine. I should have known she wouldn't be able to stay away for long. "You _need_ to hunt, Bella," said Alice through the door.

"Can't." My voice was hollow.

"Newborns shouldn't be able to last more than several days before they need more blood." This time it was Emmett. I wondered why he cared.

"Only three."

"You're going to have to go sooner or later. Can't you just try? It's better to get it over with," he pushed.

"No." My throat ached mercilessly, but I still refused. I felt sick at the thought of more blood, and wondered vaguely if vampires could get nausea.

Alice sighed and they left.

And came back noon the next day.

This time, they came inside. I hadn't moved at all since they'd gone. Emmett took one look at me and lifted me up by the bottoms of my arms like I was a small child, and stood me up in front of him.

"That's it; you _need_ to hunt," reprimanded Alice. "Don't bother telling me that you can't." She pulled me out of the room and down the hallway. I felt Emmett's stare on my back as he followed, like he was ensuring that I wouldn't make a run for it to get back to my room.

Esme and Carlisle were in the living room with the Denali clan. They all looked up from where they sat as we entered the room. It was obvious that they had just been discussing something.

"We're going hunting," Emmett declared. I stood there helplessly, not able to find the will to protest.

All the eyes in the room swiveled to my face, processing the situation. Then Tanya smiled beautifully. "Why don't we make a trip of it? We haven't had guests in _ages_." She said, trying to brighten the atmosphere. Her naturally flamboyant personality was matched only by her equally ostentatious appearance.

"That sounds like a plan," Alice said, with slightly-forced cheer.

"And the others?" a woman asked. She was sitting in the lap of an unfamiliar male, absentmindedly twirling his dark brown hair around her finger. I figured that this was Carmen, the one female Esme had mentioned but that I hadn't officially met. She and her husband, Eleazar, were both visibly of Spanish descent, though their skin was as pale as any vampire's. Like the other females of the Denali coven, this one was beautiful too, though she looked as if she were older, in her mid-twenties. Eleazar seemed of the same age, and was composed and dignified, very handsome in a foreign sort of way.

"They're already outside. We'll ask them to join us when we find them," Alice answered.

"Excellent," voiced Carlisle. Beside him, Esme pointedly tried to capture my gaze, and smiled at me in the reassuring way that was unique to her. This small gesture took some of the weight off of my shoulders; at least Esme wasn't angry at me. For her sake, I managed to smile – albeit quite brokenly – back at her.

The mood lightened considerably.

Alice's face blanked for a moment, and her eyebrows pulled together. "Edward's on his way back, now. He's done with his hunting."

A heaving sigh of disappointment was heard from Irina, and was politely ignored.

Apologetically, Esme backpedaled. "I guess I'll stay back, then." I didn't begrudge her that decision; I chalked it up to her wanting to spend time with her son.

Soon we were out on the reserve, with the sun of late afternoon shining down on us from a strange angle in the sky.

As we ran, we spread out. I could see that, to the Denali clan, hunting was somewhat of a game – to see who could capture something the fastest, or to have some amicable competition over prey. But I stubbornly tried to resist my body's somewhat angry demands, and the monster's disgruntled scolding over its missed meals. And once again, just like last time I went hunting, I couldn't hold out for long.

For me, hunting was not yet a sport. I didn't try to find the most appetizing or the most vicious prey; I just took down whatever I got my hands on first, and in quick succession. It didn't take me long before I was done.

When I came back to myself, Emmett found his way to my side; he had been watching my progress.

"I think I'm going to head back." I told him.

He frowned. "It's only been a few hours. Sometimes we go hunting for days."

"I'm not thirsty."

"But there's a mature black bear in hibernation less than a mile from here," Emmett objected. "If we wake him up, he'll be pretty feisty. It'll be fun," he tried to persuade me. My eyebrows rose slightly, but the rest of my face remained apathetic; I guess my idea of 'fun' wasn't quite aligned with his. Yet.

I tried not to show how strange I thought his idea was. "I'm not up to that right now, but thank you," I said dully, trying to stay diplomatic.

He studied me for a moment. "You're not the only one with that kind of guilt, you know. You aren't the only one who's made mistakes."

My forehead creased.

"It happened twice, to me. Two girls – strangers that I passed by on random streets." He paused, picking his words. "I wasn't any newly-born vampire, either. I had more than a few years' worth of control, both times. But I lost it when I caught the scent of each of those girls."

"I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me, Emmett." I didn't know him very well, but it was obvious that this was hard for him.

"No, I want to," he said. "We'd lived in a lot of places. Met a lot of different people. I was sort of arrogant about my control." He looked away. "But I slipped."

"The first girl was in her twenties. Pretty. Maybe married, maybe even with children. And I killed her." He sighed. "It was only a few years later that I came across the other one. She was even younger than you are. Just a kid, really. And I killed her too." Emmett was very straightforward - he kept things short and to the point.

He blinked twice, probably to get rid of the memories. "I felt really guilty about what I did. But you can't wallow. You can't hate yourself for the rest of your life, especially when our lives go on indefinitely."

"How can I not, Emmett?"

"Simple. Newborns don't know any better. Newborns don't have control. We all remember what it was like," he said, using the same justification that Alice had. "I don't even have that as an excuse for what _I've_ done, so you should be grateful that you do."

I disagreed. "No. If I had been stronger, if I had been more determined - "

"Those things don't really matter when you're a newborn," he interrupted. "The only one who might have been able to resist under the circumstances is Carlisle, and he's a special case. But what's done is done. You've got to focus on what's going to happen next."

"And what's that?"

He shrugged. "That's for you to decide."

Only two days had passed, and he wanted me to move on. But what, really, was an acceptable time limit for grief? I knew that things would get better eventually, but I'd never be able to forget the memory itself, no matter how much I prided myself in being able to repress unpleasant things.

"I'll see you at the house, Emmett. Have fun." I turned away.

"Fine, then. But make sure that Esme knows that you're home, okay Bella?" Emmett ordered. He acted like the big brother that I never had.

I nodded, already running.

The house stood before me in minutes, and I walked inside silently, not wanting to disturb the quiet. The only sound was the faint footsteps of someone pacing in her and Carlisle's room; it seemed a very un-Esme thing to do. I went upstairs to the room and raised my hand to knock.

"_What_?" came a voice from inside. My hand froze halfway to the wood. I hadn't realized Edward was home already. His voice sounded dangerously low, practically a hiss. If he and Esme were having an argument, I didn't want to intrude. My hand dropped as he continued to speak.

"I told you to stop interfering in my life." Now he sounded furious, his voice somehow more menacing as a whisper. I realized that he was speaking in response to Esme's thoughts.

"When will you figure out that I am simply happier without a mate? Believe or not, Esme, but maybe you _don't_ know what's best for me!" I paled, what little blood I had draining from my face. How completely _mortifying_ – he was talking about the conversation that Esme had had with me.

Esme spoke. "I am your mother! _Don't_ speak to me that way."

"I'm not a _child_," he retorted heatedly.

"Then you should know how to show some respect!"

The pacing stopped. "How very hypocritical of you, _mother_. You don't respect my privacy _or_ my wishes, and then you expect me to respect _you_?" He exhaled in frustration. "Ever hear of The Golden Rule?"

"'Treat others the way you wish to be treated,'" she quoted. "Which is exactly what I did. I look out for your best interests, and you look out for mine," she concluded matter-of-factly.

"She's not grasping the _point_," he muttered under his breath. The rapid pacing resumed. They stopped after a moment, and I assumed he turned to face her. "I just don't understand how you could have said such a thing to her. As if things aren't bad enough already..." he trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Edward. It was just an errant hope." Now she sounded apologetic. She paused, and when she continued, her voice was bemused. "But I never even said anything to her. It was like she was reading my mind. I thought it was odd, but just after that the phone rang, and then…" And then I killed Charlie.

"That _is_ odd." He sounded slightly mollified that Esme hadn't intentionally interfered. "Maybe Alice was right, about her having a gift. You can't help what you think – although I really do wish you wouldn't think such things." By the time he finished, his voice once again had a bitter edge.

I wondered why Edward hadn't realized that I was standing just behind the door. Why wasn't he reading my mind? Perhaps he was too distracted.

I heard the muffled sound of springs – Esme had been sitting on her bed – then footsteps. "She doesn't hate you, Edward." Her voice was soft.

There was a brief pause. "Jasper thinks so, too," he murmured. "After what happened, though…"

"No, Edward. She blames herself for Charlie's death. She doesn't hate you for it," she tried to convince him.

"Maybe," he conceded.

Esme's tone lightened as she realized that she had gained some ground. "It's ironic: each of you thinks that they're despised by the other. I've never seen such a tangled relationship in all my years."

I could practically hear Edward's eyes roll. "Yes. It's definitely worthy of Jerry Springer, is it not?" I bit back a smile.

Esme laughed. "I wouldn't go _that_ far, but it's close." She paused. "It's been a while, Edward. Will you play for me?" What did she mean?

"Of course. Your favorite?" he asked graciously.

"Yes, please."

Abruptly, there was a quick patter of footsteps. By the time I realized what was happening, the door was pulled open and Edward was looking down at me, appearing very taken-aback. I'm sure I looked like a deer in the headlights, my eyes were so wide at having been caught.

We stood there for a second, neither of us knowing what to do. Then he forced a smile and strode past me.

Esme just looked rather confused. "And I thought nobody could sneak up on Edward," she mused to herself.

I tried to apologize. "I'm sorry, Esme. Emmett told me to make sure you knew I was back, but you were arguing and I didn't want to interrupt and I feel very bad for eavesdropping…"

She waved me off. "Its okay, Bella," she assured me. "You didn't hear anything that you shouldn't have known in the first place." Then she looked me over. "You look like you're in a better mood," she observed.

"Marginally," I agreed.

Emmett's admission had really done a lot for me. He seemed like a good person, and I didn't doubt that he regretted what he'd done. God knows I regretted what _I_ had done. Maybe I could still be a good person, too. It seemed to simple to be true, but I knew I was going to have to have faith in that.

"I'm here if you need me, Bella. And now that Edward's not home alone anymore, I think I'll go on that hunt." She left with a sly smile still on her face.

Despite her clear intentions to leave us alone together, I didn't see Edward the entire time that the rest of them were away.

I heard him, though. From somewhere in the house, a piano was being masterfully played. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard, and I doubted that the melodies could be accomplished by human hands. I'd always loved classical music, but this was something _else_. I sat in my room, just listening, until the music stopped – the family had come home.

"Bella," Alice called conversationally from downstairs a few minutes later, not needing to yell. I wandered out of my room to where she was.

Most of the vampires were already absorbed in their own activities, camped out through much of the first floor. Tanya was sitting cross-legged in the same armchair as before, keyboard in her lap, typing furiously. The older couples – Carlisle and Esme, Eleazar and Carmen – were engaged in a chess competition, while Jasper read a book by the fireplace. However, the other sisters, as well as Rosalie and Emmett, were nowhere to be seen.

Edward glowered at Alice from the piano bench.

Completely disregarding this, "Edward, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked sweetly.

"Now is not the time, Alice," he said in a civil manner, although his voice was a bit rough as he spoke between clenched teeth.

"No, I think that now is the perfect time, actually," she shot, glaring right back.

He paused, his face menacing as he looked at her angrily. "_Fine_."

"Bella," she turned to me, acting infinitely kinder to me than she had to him. "Come." I looked from her to Edward in confusion, wondering how I could possibly be included in this.

Edward stalked out of the front door. Alice followed and I trailed behind her, unsure of what was going on. We were a good distance from the house before he stopped his march and leaned irately against an aging tree.

Alice crossed her arms. "I don't get it. Why come all the way out here?"

"All the way out here? This is _your_ meeting Alice. We can conduct it wherever you like," he said mockingly.

"There's no need to get defensive, Edward. I just don't understand. Why don't you want anyone to know?"

I really had no idea what was going on. "Know what?" I asked.

Alice turned to me. "I think Edward here has something he'd like to confess. He hasn't exactly been truthful with us," she said in a parental tone.

"I _never_ lied," he claimed, indignant.

She snorted. "Deceit by omission is as good as telling a lie. You indulged us all under false pretenses."

I sighed, sitting down on a rotting tree trunk that was lying on the ground, out of the way of their bickering. I didn't want to get in the middle of any siblings' quarrel. I figured that I'd find out what this was all about sooner or later.

Edward glanced at me from the corner of his eye; maybe he felt a bit awkward with me being there. I didn't blame him. Even _I_ felt awkward with me being there.

"Why are you so upset about this?" he wanted to know.

"Edward, I'm not upset – not really. I'm just mad that you lied. We _never _keep secrets in the family." She ran a hand through her short, inky hair in frustration, and then rested her hands on her hips. "And now you've become even more withdrawn than you used to be, and I can't take it."

"I'm sorry, Alice," he apologized to his sister without hesitation.

"It's okay. But it helps me understand why you've been acting so dense around her," she said with a smirk. At that, Edward rolled his eyes dryly at her abrupt change in mood. "I may be wrong, but I'm willing to bet that you couldn't hear her when she was human either."

Wait, _what_?

"I saw what happened when Bella got home," she said. "And I know that there's no way to get past your little radar undetected. So there's really no other explanation," she concluded.

Edward's eyes looked into mine, and his expression was a mix of wariness and contemplation.

He sighed in defeat. "You're right. You always are. Happy now?" he asked softly, as if it no longer mattered to him either way.

He took a step in my direction, and tilted his head to survey me from a different angle. "How frustrating. I can hope that your eyes tell me everything that your mind doesn't, but still, you can keep secrets from me. The first one who ever could."

"You can't read my mind?" I asked, unsure. I always used to think that something was wrong with my mind – and this only proved it. But then I realized that that was better than having him read my thoughts.

He shook his head. "Not a whisper."

"Now that's a relief," I murmured.

Edward raised his eyebrows. "And why is that?" he asked smoothly, expectant of my answer. His golden eyes bored into mine, trying to decipher the truth for himself.

I looked away, not wanting to be compelled into admitting the embarrassing reality. My fingers traced the ridges of the wood I was sitting on. I bit my lip. "I'll never tell."

I looked back at him. His forehead was creased in frustration.

Alice laughed. "It seems like you've finally met your match, Edward," she teased.

He frowned at her.

She sighed. "Relax. I didn't mean it that way." She looked back and forth between us. "I'm going to Jasper. And Edward, don't worry. I'll let you tell them for yourself." With that, she sprinted away, leaving me and Edward in her wake. Alone.

For several moments, Edward looked a bit impatient; his eyes returned to my face every few seconds. He seemed to have something on his mind, but didn't know how to bring it up. Finally, he wasn't able to contain himself any longer. "You thought I hated you?" he asked, mystified, referring back to the conversation he'd had with Esme. It sounded like that had been on his mind for a while.

His golden eyes were penetrating, and I stared into them for several moments before I nodded. "Why wouldn't you? I ruined the life you had in Forks. I'm a reminder to you of what you did wrong. I'm just a mistake, one that you'll have to live with – literally – for the rest of your life."

"Do you realize that I can say all the same things about myself?"

I laughed a little, and at that, his expression lightened somewhat. "Then it makes sense that we both thought the other hated us."

"Why _don't_ you hate me?" he wondered, still bemused.

I moved over on the log and sat Indian-style. He rightly interpreted this as my invitation to sit down next to me, though he casually kept his distance. "Why bother hating you if you feel bad for what you did?" I reasoned. "I saw that you were sorry, the moment after you gave me to Carlisle."

He raised his eyebrows. "You remember that?"

"Yes. Though I'd rather I didn't," I said, cringing as I also recalled how much pain I was in at the time. He grimaced, understanding.

There was another momentary silence, this one less awkward than before. He watched me minutely, taking in every detail. Before I could look away in embarrassment under his scrutiny, he groaned. "After all these years, it's very disturbing to be able to see someone move, hear them talk, and yet not be privy to the internal commentary they have on the world around them. I've grown so used to it – it's like a crutch. I feel somewhat impeded without it."

"Trust me; it would be even more disturbing to have you inside my head."

Edward smirked. "Maybe for _you_," he said, poking my side gently with his index finger. Then he drew his hand back quickly, his face guarded. "Sorry." His mood was changing so frequently and so abruptly that it was hard to keep up with.

I was at a loss. It was like he didn't think he was _allowed_ to smile, or to laugh. "You don't have to keep doing that," I informed him.

"Doing what?"

I stared at him like he was missing the obvious. "Acting so careful around me. I'm not scared of you, you know."

He avoided my eyes and stood up, looking out across the tumble of green and white. "I guess I still just find it hard to believe."

"Well, you said you wanted to know what was inside my mind. And in my mind, the only scary things – monsters – are people who do bad things, and _enjoy_ doing them. Just the fact that you feel sorry…that you regret what you did…it makes you a good person.

"When you became what you are, you could have left Carlisle and killed an immeasurable number of innocent people, but you didn't. You didn't take the easy way out – and that saved the lives of more people than even you can count." I breathed out in a huff, a bit embarrassed by my little rant.

He dropped his head, still facing away from me. "I _did_ leave. For four years. I killed men – criminals – that were barely more human than I was. Carlisle and Esme…they waited for me. They didn't move on, despite the risk. They waited for me to come home."

"And you did," I managed to respond through my shock.

He turned around, and his face was incredulous. "Are you saying that that _absolves _me? I've killed hundreds, maybe even thousands of people, all for my own twisted gratification!"

I leaned back, away from his anger. "But do you realize it was wrong? Do you regret it?"

His eyes closed and his head tilted back. It was a moment before he straightened. "I do," he answered, his voice pained.

"Then you're not a monster," I said simply. "I could never think that of you."

Edward's eyes were desperate; he wanted so badly to believe it was true. And he wasn't the only one who needed comfort. I had gone through so much in the past week, and it was just too much. I realized that if I believed the things I was telling him – and I did – then I had to admit to myself that I wasn't a monster, either.

Knowing that, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. And that gave me the courage to do what I was about to do.

Before he could protest – before _I_ could protest – I stepped down from the log and walked straight up to him. His eyes followed my every move, unsure of what I meant to do. I stopped directly in front of him and slid my arms around his waist, hoping that he wouldn't push me away.

Edward froze for a moment, clearly not expecting this. But then he relaxed, and to my surprise, I felt his arms hesitantly come around me. His head fell forward and his cheek came to rest against mine. "You don't see yourself very clearly, Edward. You're better than you know," I whispered into his shirt. His only response was to hold me even tighter.

All too soon, he let go of me and I stepped back. Any tension there was between us seemed to have dissipated.

He shook his head sadly. "I still don't know how I can ever make everything up to you," he said.

"Well," I sighed, my face good-naturedly serious, "if you think you must – you have all eternity to try."

"How can I start?" he posed.

I looked him square in the eye. "Friends?" I suggested.

He surveyed me curiously before he gave me a crooked grin – the first natural, carefree smile I had seen him make. And he looked all the more handsome for it. "I think I can do that."

I smiled back at him. He was my friend. Edward, who seemed so kind, and so lonely, and so sincere – he was my friend. My heart sank. If only I didn't want something more.


	8. Such Great Heights

A/N: Hey, everyone. I'm sorry that it took so long to update - I really have no excuse, seeing as it's been written for a few weeks. Just had to edit, and I was being lazy. I dread the time when all my finals start converging on me...However, I still have a month or two before I start to slowly diminish under the weight of fine learning. Joy. And on to more important things: The delightful Eowyn77 has graciously permitted me to use some base facts from her story in mine. I _highly_ recommend you all read _Fair Game_ – not because you need it in order to understand my story, but rather because it is an excellent representation of the Cullens' first encounter with Tanya's family. Really, truly excellent. Anyway, as always, read, review, and enjoy!

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**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

Tanya and her family were very well-adapted to their lifestyle; I, however, felt a growing dislike towards the feeling of being so inert. There was not much to do in the isolated Alaskan wilderness. The Denali coven, at least, had some sort of break from the monotony – I would learn that at least one or more of them were usually absent on one of their little excursions. Though there was no doubt that we were providing quite a bit of excitement for them.

There seemed to be a commonality between all the vampires in the house – in lieu of decent, more lively activity, they all decided to pick on Edward and me instead. Ever since that meeting in the forest, we could hardly escape it. In fact, it all started when we opened the door upon our return.

They were surprised, to say the least, when we came home. It was a bit of a shock to see us walking side by side, when before we had felt barely comfortable enough to even look at one another. It _was_ a rather abrupt change, but one for the better.

Tanya looked up from her laptop, her pale face glowing oddly in the light of the screen. She looked at us with great amusement, minutely observing as Edward held open the door for me, gentleman that he was, and closed it in our wake. "Well," she purred. "Don't _we_ look friendly?"

Edward smiled at her, unperturbed. "I would hope so, Tanya, considering that we are, in fact, friends." Esme's head jerked up at that, and a satisfied, smug smile graced her perfect features.

"Leave the poor children alone, Tanya," reprimanded Carmen. She was seated on the floor with Esme, a pile of paper spread out before them. House designs and different patterns decorated the sheets. Though Tanya was the leader, Carmen reminded me of Esme in the way she kept the sisters in check.

"Fine. I can't help it if I'm jealous, though. I wish he could be as friendly with _me_," she said, looking dissatisfied.

"You never know. Bella may be willing to share," Carmen consoled her. I waited for the inevitable flaming in my cheeks, but none came. However, I was no less embarrassed.

We endured a lot of those kinds of little jibes at our friendship over the next few weeks. Emmett and Rosalie were two of the most vocal participants. Surprisingly, the once-distant Rosalie had taken a liking to me. She told me that I reminded her of herself – though in what way, I couldn't fathom. And I liked her as well, despite all the teasing.

The sisters, too, were insufferable. They constantly made none-too-subtle innuendos that made me seriously contemplate violence against them. They didn't even have the decency to act the least bit repentant after all their teasing.

The others were much more restrained. Esme and Carlisle would merely smile whenever they saw us together, which was often. And Alice always seemed to be in her own little world, grinning at me sideways with a look that told me she knew something and wasn't going to give it away. Jasper seemed too sophisticated to bother with it. Carmen and Eleazar seemed of the same opinion – they were quiet, and kept mostly to themselves.

To tell the truth, I was completely mortified to think of what Edward heard from all their minds that he didn't say aloud. Did he think it was a joke? Did he feel pressured? Honestly, I couldn't tell. He was always so composed.

It was during one of the few times I was without Edward that I decided to spend some time with Kate and Alice. They were remarkably similar, almost like carbon-copies of one another. They were both small, dark-haired, and exuberant if the situation called for it. Not to mention their love for material possessions. Kate had an obsession with shopping that could rival Alice's.

Bored, Kate had decided to regale us, in detail, of her last little expedition outside the borders of Denali. Alice listened, amused, while I just tried to tune the conversation out. I pulled my book from the little table next to the couch and started reading rather than taking part in the talk. It wasn't until I heard my name that I actually listened to what was going on.

"It's really too bad, Bella, that you're as young as you are," Kate informed me, as if this were some tragic fact.

"Hmm?" I inquired, still looking at my book to finish the paragraph I was reading.

"Well, no doubt in a few years, you'll have enough control to accompany us on one of our…"she searched for the correct term. "Trips," she finished. "After all, you need to have fun somehow," she continued, as her suggestion were perfectly normal.

My eyes didn't move from the book, but my eyebrows rose _way_ up, making me look like I was surprised at whatever I was reading. Then I straightened and looked at Kate a bit unbelievingly. "I don't think that I'm cut out for such fun, Kate."

She laughed, eyes sparkling brightly. "_Everyone_ is cut out for our little brand of fun, Bella."

Alice laughed too. "Or so they think. They have so much fun doing what they do that they don't even consider anyone feeling differently about it."

Kate shook her head condescendingly. "As much as I love Jasper – handsome creature that he is – he holds you down!"

From somewhere in the house, we heard Jasper's laughter. "Don't be giving her any ideas, Katrina. We all know you're just jealous." We heard him clear as day, despite his distance.

Katrina looked scandalized. "Jealous? What a little liar." She shook her head, and continued as if uninterrupted. "You cannot have more than one lover, and thus, don't know how exciting it is to be so free," she reasoned with Alice. "You never know – our way can be better. Our way is _best_. There's really no need to be so exclusive."

Alice gave me a look that said, _You see what I mean?_ However, she rolled her eyes but didn't protest, knowing she would never get anywhere anyway. "I'll be back. I just need to go to the post office."

"For what?" I asked.

"They have some packages for me," she said innocently. "And I couldn't have them delivered here, now I could?" Alice fled the house, and Kate waited until we could no longer hear the engine before she started to speak again.

"Why do you object to our way of life?" she asked, honestly curious.

"I don't object, Katrina. I just believe that such…acts…should be reserved for the _one_ person in the world that you love." That was the best I could sum up my thoughts on that topic.

"Ah," she sighed. "Now where have I heard that before? You think just like Edward. And you're just as chaste." She giggled. "You _both_ don't know what you're missing."

Then she paused for a moment, thinking over her words. Her lips twitched, and I felt a growing sense of dread. Then she looked at me with a sly smirk. "It doesn't take that long to put two and two together."

Crap.

I didn't feel like dealing with this, _again_. I kept my voice to a nearly inaudible whisper – there was no need to inform the rest of the house of what we were discussing. Particularly because it was such a delicate topic. "Kate, don't start. It's not true, and what's more, it's not going to happen." Given, I _was_ slightly attracted to him – who wouldn't be? – but I was never going to own up to _that_.

She giggled. "No need to be so defensive. I didn't even say anything, and you're already at my throat. Some would think that was _overly_ defensive."

I felt the urge to slap that arrogant look right off of her face, my usual non-violence aside. "We're just friends, Kate. And _not_ friends with benefits either, so don't get any ideas."

She snorted. "'Friends' is just a preliminary, my young, innocent, naïve little Bella. You both should just nix the pretenses and give in already. You look like you could use it. And don't even get me started on _him_."

We were still speaking in whispers; my nerves were getting so frayed that I had to consciously monitor my volume. "How would you know anything about preliminaries? Have you ever even been in a relationship?" I said derisively. I myself never even had a boyfriend, but she didn't know that.

She sniffed. "Only once…if you could even call it a relationship. It was more of a business transaction, if you ask me."

My eyes narrowed curiously. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, annoyed that we were getting off topic. "My sisters and I did not experience the best human lives. Women were not treated anywhere near like they are now. We were _property_," she said resentfully, examining the nails on her right hand. "And as such, I was sold away; my new husband paid my father a high price for me. I was talented, you see."

"How so?"

She looked up at me with a mysterious grin. "I've been told I have the voice of an _angel_," she murmured demurely.

No wonder. "And that's your power? Your voice?"

She nodded, radiating smugness her abilities.

"It works on humans and vampires alike?"

Her smile widened. "You tell _me_." She began to hum, then to sing. My breathing slowed and my movements stilled, and I found that I couldn't turn away even if I wanted to. It was like she was weaving a cautionary tale into her melody; the words weren't in English, but the song blatantly carried a warning.

It gradually trailed off, and it was almost as if her voice hung in the air like an echo, ghosting through my mind. I slowly regained my ability to move, and I blinked rapidly in disorientation.

"Hypnotic, yes? It's a gift. But then again, it was what got me sold to _him_, and he was not so pleasant," she said with distaste.

I couldn't imagine what it would have been like to live back then. "You remember all of this?" I couldn't fathom what it would be like to have over a thousand years of memories.

"Vaguely," she dismissed, pouting slightly at the turn the discussion had taken. "Now back to you. Since you so very artfully directed conversation my way, it's only fair I return the favor."

I inwardly groaned. "What will it take to convince you that we're just friends?"

"Sweetheart, you couldn't convince me if you _tried_," she said. "I know what I see."

I muttered something unintelligible about her being blind. My embarrassment was starting to get the best of me. "I don't want to have this conversation right now," I told her.

She smiled darkly from her seat. "If not now, when? Things will start happening soon. You won't be able to hide your infatuation for long – nothing is a secret in the Cullen circle."

I rolled my eyes, trying to seem indifferent. I'm pretty sure she saw right through me.

Katrina eyed me thoughtfully. "I wonder if you can accomplish what we three could never do. Or any woman for that matter." She sighed. "To ensnare Edward Cullen…it would be the _greatest_ of accomplishments."

Thankfully, the man in question came back to save me from Kate's clutches not too long afterwards. We were to go on yet _another_ hunting trip. I had gone with all members of the family already, and Edward was by far my favorite hunting partner. But I may have been a little biased.

When we were done, Edward beckoned me forward. He was all in shadow except for his hand, which glowed like a beacon in the dark. I looked at him expectantly.

"Come," he said, emphasizing with a gesture of his hand.

I eyed him with some trepidation. "Why?"

"I want to show you something."

I narrowed my eyes. "Does this 'something' happen to be of the irritable-grizzly bear variety?" I still hadn't forgotten Emmett's little suggestion. I briefly wondered if Edward would be the same as his brother in that aspect. Somehow, I doubted it – but I was wary nonetheless.

He rolled his eyes, perfect smile still in place. "No. It's a place I like to go. I found it the first time I came to Alaska."

Oh. "Okay." I grabbed his hand. He seemed to have no trouble, no discomfort at all holding my hand in his. But if I were human, I'm sure my heart would have run faster, and my palm would have been sweaty. I knew that I had become good at concealing my nervousness around him – on the surface level, at least. Sometimes Jasper gave me odd looks, and I knew it was only a matter of time before Edward heard in his thoughts exactly what I was feeling.

We ran together, hand in hand, and I matched my speed to his. I knew he was faster than me, but he'd slowed down for my sake. Every now and then his arm would give a gentle tug as we changed direction.

I looked to the side. Edward had a faint smile on his face, and his eyes shone with anticipation. His head turned and his eyes met mine; they softened as his smile widened into a grin.

As his eyes held mine, I felt a flicker of something familiar. His eyes held the same attraction that they did for me when I was just a girl in the cafeteria, and he was just the beautiful boy across the room. Because that's what he was. Beautiful…

After nearly a half-hour of hard running, Edward slowed, and I with him. We were in one of the more densely forested areas of the park, and I could hear water running nearby. The noise sounded flat, somehow. In the shards of space between the trees and leaves I could make out a sheer rock-face. I looked up, and saw it extend up above the tops of the trees.

"We have to climb," he warned me. I followed him, taking care not to look down.

The cliff was shaped as a dagger that delved into the valley below. Just below the edge, there was a large depression in the stone, making a little cove – a small cave, really. The bottom jutted out farther than the top, and we sat on that ledge so that our view was clear. We could see everything from up there; the splattering of green and brown that made the forest, the splashes of white that came from the ice glinting in the moonlight, the mountains that created a strange silhouette against the midnight-blue sky…

It was beautiful. I was so absorbed with the ground below that I failed to look straight up until Edward nudged me with his shoulder. He nodded his head towards the sky, and I did the same.

From all the way up here, we had an unobstructed view of the stars, in all their glory. I had never quite seen such a display; Phoenix had much too many city-lights to see the stars, and one had no hope of ever seeing through the clouds of Forks. I leaned back against the stone and simply watched the night, wondering what was happening far away in that sky.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Edward said quietly, his voice so low that it barely interrupted the silence.

I nodded wordlessly. After a moment's thought, I asked "How did you find this?"

He looked away from the stars, to my face. "When we first came to Alaska, I used to get bored, because, well, you know the sisters." He grimaced. "I liked to get out of the house as much as possible. So I did a lot of exploring around the reserve."

I looked back up at the sky. "It's incredible," I murmured, reverent. Even I could hear the wonder in my voice. "I've never felt closer to the stars."

I could tell he'd never looked away from me, so I tore my eyes from the sky to face him again. "What?" I questioned him, as he still watched. His eyes were enigmatic, and the gold of his irises seems to glow in the dark. He looked wistful. My eyebrows came down, and I wondered why he looked that way.

He held my gaze for a minute before he looked back at the sky, not answering at all. I turned away too, but I was starry-eyed for a reason other than the panorama above me.

We sat in silence for the rest of the night, short as it was. I sighed as the sky grew too light to see the stars any longer. The sky was faintly pink when Edward started to move. "I guess we better head back," he said with lack of enthusiasm.

"Yeah. They're probably wondering where we are."

"They needn't bother, having Alice," Edward reminded me.

"I guess you're right."

I looked down, over the edge of the stone. For the first time, I remembered just how high up we were. "Ugh. I hate heights," I muttered to myself.

He snickered, looking carelessly over the ledge. "See you at the bottom." With that, he jumped, and my heart felt like it had leapt into my throat. He fell straight, his agile form cutting through the air like a knife. I gasped as he disappeared from view, hidden by the forest growth.

"Edward?" I called out, hesitant, my eyes still scanning the view below.

He didn't answer.

"Edward?" my voice sounded a bit more shrill. He couldn't have gotten hurt, could he? Before I could get too worked up, I heart a distant chuckle. I took a calming breath.

"Relax, Bella," he called up to me. He appeared in the gap between the trees and the stone wall, all the way at the bottom. "When are you going to learn the full extent of what you can do? A jump like this could never hurt us."

"I don't know, Edward. I'm still not used to this. I know that I _feel_ strong, but it's still...scary," I admitted. I highly doubted, despite what I'd just witnessed, that I could escape such a jump unscathed.

Looking down on him, I could see his white teeth glint as he grinned. "Come on, Bella. Try it," he urged. "It's exhilarating, just like the speed." I tried to estimate the distance of the drop. It could be over a hundred and fifty feet, easy. I balked.

"I don't know. Maybe I should just climb down."

He was silent for a moment, trying to guess how he could persuade me. "Do you trust me, Bella?" he asked in his silken, irresistible voice. How could I not?

"Yes," I responded without hesitation.

"Then you would believe me if I promised that I would never let you get hurt again, wouldn't you?" I didn't miss the subtle inflection. My will to resist melted a little at his words – basically, he'd promised to protect me. It was sweet, even though it was a non-romantic gesture.

"I guess so." I knew he could taste the victory.

"Then jump," he said simply. That's all this was. Not a challenge. A test of trust. He disappeared back under the cover of the green.

Steeling myself, I stood on the small edge that our vantage point afforded. I looked down at the fall, and then straight ahead, where the sky was still dark violet at the edges. I suspended my foot in the open air, and jumped.

Then I was falling.

I remembered to keep myself as aligned as possible. My eyes were closed as I plummeted, but I could feel the air rushing upward, past me. My arms extended straight up, and my hair twisted in the wind, curling around my outstretched fingers. I felt the rustle of leaves and branches as I dropped through them. And then my feet hit the ground, knees bent, gracefully and easily as a cat. Except I didn't have nine lives. I only had two.

My eyes slid open as I straightened in one, liquid movement. Edward stood several feet off, watching me with the same unfathomable expression as before. I stared right back until he spoke, his voice a bit rough.

"Let's go home."

We ran as the sky turned first from purple to pink then red and orange. I watched him surreptitiously as we sprinted, my eyes captured by the way his reddish-bronze hair caught the light, making it look almost like fire. Not to mention the way the rest of his skin glittered and rippled like water…

My head jerked away, and I grimaced as I bit my lip – hard. I couldn't believe it. _Why_ did this have to happen to me? Why did he have to be so devastatingly handsome? I could barely think without my thoughts being of him. I tried to deny it, write it off as just a physical attraction…but he was so endearing, so charming – and not even the least bit arrogant about it. He was like a perfect, flawless being…and I wanted him.

But then I thought back to what Kate had said – Edward had never, for lack of a better term, been in love. Rather than encouraging me, this fact only served to deter me further. It made him seem even _more_ unattainable. I mean, if he turned the Denali sisters down – who were each and all beautiful beyond reason – what were the chances that he would want someone like _me_? I wasn't all that attractive, or interesting. I could be called mediocre at best.

I was so on-edge, unable to stifle my feelings for Edward, however wrongly focused they were. It really _was_ only a matter of time before Jasper's power would expose me.

**Review ;)**


	9. It's All Just Torture

**A/N: Hey, guys. I'm **_**free**_**! And freedom is sweet. Especially when it means that I no longer have to study long hours every day, using all my free time to prepare for my AP exam, which I took today. A weight has been lifted! Woo hoo! My, my, my, I really haven't been happier in a good while. Anyway, I'm going to procrastinate on my Chemistry SAT II until it's absolutely necessary I start studying for it. So that gives me about a week, roughly, to write some more. I'll probably post sometime soon. Sooner than this time. Hopefully. Then after that I have all my Regents. Yay. Cough, cough.**** So I've got a lot written, albeit not in any real order, but there'll be another chapter up soon. Review, and you get it faster ;)  
**

**-Lisa**

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**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

A few hours later, I was sitting in my room, listening to a CD that Edward had given to me, when I heard someone kick my door. I pulled the headphones out of my ears and watched the door warily. "It's unlocked," I called.

Alice's annoyed voice came from the other side. "I know, Bella. It's just…my hands are kind of full at the moment." This made me even more cautious. I briefly considered not opening the door at all.

"Don't even think about it, Bella." I rolled my eyes. Of course, she had seen.

"Fine, then. But I have a feeling that I'm going to regret this." I stalked over to the door and pulled it open. Let's just say that the scene before me defied all laws of physics.

Alice, in all her four-foot-nine glory, stood balancing a pile of boxes that extended several feet above her head, just short enough to fit through my door. Behind her, there were several more piles of boxes lining the hall. She smiled angelically. I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Help me bring the rest of these inside," she ordered sweetly. I complied, knowing fully well that it would end up worse for me if I didn't. The boxes were not heavy (though as a vampire, this wasn't saying much), but they felt dangerously full. Several had packing labels in languages that I couldn't even read. I set them down in my room with the rest, and turned to stare at Alice.

Putting my hands on my hips, I tried to appear strong. "What's all this?" I demanded.

"It's the stuff I picked up from the post office. I had to use Emmett's Jeep," she added sheepishly.

"I figured that," I said impatiently. "But what's it _for_?"

"It's for you," she replied simply.

I raised my eyebrows skeptically, then turned to the nearest box. The thick layers of duct tape were not much of an obstacle for me. I took one look inside, then back at Alice.

"You're joking. _All_ of this –" I gestured to all of the packages, "is _clothing_?"

She looked defensive. "No. Some of it is shoes. And underwear." I stared at her, aghast.

"But Alice, I don't need any of this!" How much money had she _spent_? From the looks of what I'd seen so far, the clothes she'd bought were not cheap.

"Well,_ I_ think you do. And I've had to share my clothes with you for the past few weeks." I hadn't thought of it that way. Had I been inconveniencing her? "Besides, my clothes don't really fit you too well anyway."

I sighed, my shoulders drooping. "But did you have to buy so _much_?" It seemed that anything Alice ever did was over the top.

"No. But I wanted to. See? This was really for my benefit, not yours."

I snorted rather unattractively. "You can twist it any way you want Alice, but at the end of the day, I'm the one who has to end up wearing all of this."

"And it will all look beautiful on you. You'll soon be thanking me."

"That'll be the day…" I didn't enjoy shopping, and I couldn't care less what I was dressed in. Though I had to admit that lately I'd started to take an interest, and the reason wasn't just vanity.

She giggled. "Yes. Forget the pigs…that will be the day when _werewolves_ fly."

I nearly choked at the unexpected word. "Werewolves?" I squeaked out.

She hesitated. "Just kidding. We've already reached our quota of magical creatures around here." I had the funny feeling that she wasn't telling the truth, but I brushed it hastily away.

Dramatically placing a hand over my heart, I sighed deeply. "For a brief moment there, Alice, you had me thinking that werewolves were _real_." They could never be; after all, the world was warped enough already. "Can you never be serious, Alice?"

"Nope. It comes with the territory of knowing the future. I've nothing to be worried about, not if I can try to fix things to my liking." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "It's a God complex – but I acknowledge that."

I decided to humor her. "And just what does the almighty Alice see in my near future?" I asked dryly.

She pursed her lips delicately. "Now _that_ is for me to know, and you to find out."

"How unoriginal," I stated bluntly.

Alice shrugged. "Call it what you like, Bella. But like I said – someday, you'll be thanking me." I got the feeling that she wasn't just talking about clothes.

I groaned belligerently, conveniently forgetting the fact that it was my fault for asking in the first place. I just couldn't take all of her mysterious hints and teasing, coupled with my own self-doubt. "That's _it_! I'm sick of all the cryptic remarks already! What are you really trying to say?" I demanded of her. She _could_ trust me with this. She could tell me.

She looked very taken aback. "You and Edward will fall in love," she whispered in a flat, slightly monotone voice. Then her eyes widened. "What did I say?"

My eyes narrowed and I glared at her, stalking out of the room. She remained where she was, seeming a bit dazed. I didn't care. If she wanted to play games with me, I wasn't just going to lie down and take it willingly. I hated that everyone was always on my back about this. My chest hurt whenever I thought about losing the friendship that I had with Edward – I didn't want any of their incessant, juvenile teasing to jeopardize it.

Unsurprisingly, I sought him out for comfort. All I needed to feel better nowadays was his presence. I stalked to his room, but it was empty. Then I headed to his next most likely location.

Edward had been spending a lot of his time at the piano lately. But when I asked him about it, he just smiled evasively. He wouldn't even let me in the room to listen while I read. Of course, I could still hear him play – but usually, he was mostly writing the notes, rather than playing them.

I often wondered why he bothered writing anything down at all. The perfection of a vampire memory was no joke ­– it was laughable to think that we could ever forget something as simple as a melody. But there he was each day, writing, then dissatisfiedly crossing the notes from the paper.

He only played a few jagged, broken bits of composition every so often before groaning in frustration. I never knew why he was getting so upset – I thought everything sounded beautiful.

This time, though, I found him sitting on the bench, arms crossed, glaring balefully at the keys. "Hello," I said, my tone of voice still hard from my anger with Alice.

He looked up, startled by my presence; he had been very focused. A crooked grin appeared on his face at the sight of me, but my own answering smile was unenthusiastic. "You again?" he asked archly. "Haven't you had enough of me yet?"

I walked over to the bench and sat down beside him. "Never," I answered, my frustrations dulling the shyness I might have felt answering such a question. His grin widened at my response. We sat in silence for a minute.

"What's the matter?" he asked, interpreting my mood.

I grimaced. "I'm surprised you didn't hear. I got a bit angry with Alice."

"I had a lot on my mind. What did you fight about?" Dangerous territory.

"I don't know. I think it was just me, overreacting." Neutral, noncommittal answer.

"And what were you overacting about?" he pressed.

I pursed my lips. "Nothing of importance."

He chuckled. "Fine then, keep your secrets. But I thought you trusted me?"

I leaned back, gripping the ledge of the polished black seat for support. "Well, there's a difference between trust, and letting someone know every detail of your life. And trust doesn't necessarily mean no secrets – it means no lies."

"Interesting view." He let his fingers skim over the keys, but they didn't make a sound. "But like Alice said, some secrets shouldn't be kept – lying by omission, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course. But this is much more trivial; it's not exactly on the same level as the secret _you_ kept. Speaking of which…"

His head hung guiltily. "I really _should_ tell them. I don't know why I've waited so long."

"You're afraid of seeming weak," I deadpanned.

Edward winced. "Sometimes is seems like you know me _too_ well. But, yes…and no. You must know the feeling – the longer a secret is kept, the worse it seems. And the harder it is to tell."

"I hate to use the band-aid analogy, but – "

His laughter cut me off. "Don't bother. I get what you mean, even though I can't exactly empathize completely. I've never had to rip off a band-aid before."

My forehead creased. "Why not?"

"I wonder if you will think it's strange," he reflected to himself.

"I doubt you were a hemophiliac as a child," I said, a hint of sarcasm coloring my tone. He didn't respond. "Try me," I added, making sure my expression was casual.

Edward smiled slightly. "Well, then. You asked for it." He paused playfully, dramatically, seeming to ignore the serious air. "The band-aid was invented three years after I died."

My forehead creased as I considered this anticlimactic response. _That_ I had not been expecting. I couldn't imagine a time without band-aids. I wondered just how old he was. "And when was it invented?" I asked carefully. He knew what I was getting at.

He copied my casual demeanor, although seemed a bit more hesitant to answer this time around. "1921."

I froze for a second, doing the math. That meant he died in 1918. So he was born at the start of the 20th century, if the age he had pretended, seventeen, was correct. In awe, I realized that the godlike boy in front of me was over a hundred years old. He saw the questions in my eyes.

He gazed down at his piano keys. "Do you want to know more?" he asked, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

I nodded. With sudden inspiration, I arched my eyebrow. "About you? Or the band-aid?" My joke had the desired effect: he laughed.

"Either, I suppose. Though I don't know much more about the latter."

"Alright, then." I grinned. "I guess I'll settle for hearing more about you."

He permitted himself a brief smile at me before staring steadily across the lacquered black top of the piano, and taking a deep breath to begin. "I was born in Chicago, in 1901, to Elizabeth and Edward Masen Sr. I don't remember much – or anything at all, really – about my childhood, so forgive the large gap in my recollection."

I smiled encouragingly. "There's no need to apologize. Please, go on."

He nodded absently, lost in thought as he tried to remember more. "Human memories tend to fade over time…but I _do_ remember some little things – my first time playing piano, one of my father's birthdays..." he trailed off. "I remember reading in the papers that America had entered the war, and how badly I wanted to join. It seems foolish now." He shook his head.

"What do you remember most?"

His eyes shifted up to the high ceiling. "The days leading up to my death. Carlisle found me in a hospital in the summer of 1918, dying of the Spanish influenza."

I felt a heavy, sinking feeling, horrified at the thought of him dying even though I had him safe and sound less than an arm's length away. My hand involuntarily reached out to grab his, and I entwined it securely within my own, giving it a squeeze.

He smiled slightly at the contact, but still didn't look my way. Absently, Edward began tracing the back of my hand with his thumb, leaving behind a pleasant warmth, even though his hand was as cool as mine.

"I always find myself thinking that it was…meant to be, or fate, perhaps, for him to find me. Many of those who developed symptoms died within 24 to 48 hours. My father was dead. My mother was dying. Carlisle's shown me his recollection of it…. Beneath the sickness, my mother was beautiful," he recalled suddenly. A few seconds passed before he continued. "_She_ was what convinced Carlisle to save me. She begged him not to let me die."

"I wonder sometimes, if she would be proud of what I've become, even after everything I've done. Or if she'd regret what she'd asked of Carlisle. But then she was gone, and I had no one, and he turned me – making me his first companion after three hundred years of being alone."

"Do _you_ regret it?"

His face briefly clouded, but then smoothed over. "Sometimes I do. Like when I think of all the mistakes I've made. It's so hard sometimes – I can remember the face of each and every person I've killed. I can't take it back, no matter how much I want to." He looked at me, gauging my reaction.

This, now, was something we shared. The crime, the memory, the guilt of what we'd done. I'd only murdered one human – _one_ – and I still felt horrible, would _always_ feel horrible about it. I couldn't imagine what is was like for Edward, those faces all blending together and yet standing out so vividly. Hundreds, he'd said, maybe thousands. Three long years of thirst and instinct and murder. My mind shied away from the very thought.

Edward sighed wistfully. "There are all those things to make me regret it, but other times, I don't. I love my family. I have brothers and sisters who I couldn't be closer to if they were related by blood. And I can't imagine two people better than Esme and Carlisle."

I smiled. He was right about that; this family had come together so perfectly that it was hard to doubt that there was some greater entity out there, guiding us and bringing us together. I didn't feel like an intruder upon the family so much any more. I almost felt like one of them.

"And then there's you," Edward continued gently. "If I'd died in 1918 like I should have, I would've never met you. I suppose, in the long run, your life would be better if I didn't exist, but_ I_ happen to like my life with you in it. Which makes it very difficult to regret anything." He finally looked at me, a faint smile turning up the corners of his lips. "Does that make me selfish?"

I looked down at our intertwined hands, pulling them into my lap and grasping his with both of mine. "No, it doesn't. I like my life with you in it too. Which makes it hard for _me_ to regret anything either." I looked back up at him, and he was staring at our hands, too.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. "What would have happened, do you think, if I were still human?" I wondered. "Is it too hard to imagine that we could have been friends then, as well?" He stayed silent for a moment.

"Before I went to your house that night, after I dropped off my family, I was undecided. I could have gone either way…to Denali, or to you. There were two possible futures that had you still alive. Two visions. Alice saw them both. She told me about them. The first was the path you're on now."

"But to answer your question, yes, we would have been friends if you'd stayed human – as unlikely as that seems. But in that same one, you still would have ended up like me, like us, Alice believes." He sighed. "I guess it just wasn't in your cards to remain human, no matter which path I'd taken. Apparently, I couldn't stay away from you in either of them."

I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, that's me. Irresistible," I said with heavy sarcasm.

He didn't laugh; it seemed that he didn't get the joke. Instead, his unblinking eyes never left mine, just holding on to my gaze as my smile faded and I could do nothing but stare helplessly at him. "Yes," he murmured, a vague response.

Then he blinked and looked quickly away, the smile swiftly reappearing on his handsome face. "And I thought you were a _modest_ type of person. How wrong was I?" Once again, his mood changes left me a step behind. Had I just _imagined_ the intensity of his gaze?

I tried to pretend as if a thing as simple as his stare hadn't taken my breath away. I couldn't help but think, sometimes, that he might feel the same way. But that was just wishful thinking. "Hey!" I said indignantly, breaking my grasp to hit him on the shoulder, and he raised his arms to defend himself.

We both laughed, then sighed, breaking away from the scuffle to sit again in a companionable silence. He looked so content, so different from my first impression of him. He'd seemed bad-tempered and moody – for him, I'd thought, the role of angst-ridden teen wasn't even an act. Despite his hundred-odd years, it came naturally. But now he was so…different. Less distant and remote, happier, more engaged.

"Edward? Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

His contented expression didn't waver, remaining open and light. "Go ahead," he told me, gesturing forward with his hand for me to proceed.

"I know I haven't been here very long, but I still can't help but notice some things."

"Such as?"

"Well, you mostly." I slapped my forehead inwardly. If I was trying to conceal my obsession with him, it wasn't advisable to admit that I watched him so closely. "You just seem a lot more agreeable than you used to be," I clarified.

"You're not wrong in that line of thinking. I am a lot happier than I used to be," he admitted.

"Why were you so unhappy before?" I wondered.

He sighed, and answered not unwillingly. "There were a lot of reasons. Guilt, boredom, frustration…loneliness," he ticked off. "I didn't have a very good self-image either. Not to mention, I felt that I had nothing to live for."

"You had your family," I reminded him, confused.

"Yes. And you know I love them. Not that they weren't enough, but…something was still missing. After a hundred years, everything seemed kind of meaningless."

"What changed?" Please let it be me.

He smiled brightly. "Well, now I have someone around who's even more stubborn than I am. You were able to get some things through my thick skull that my family had been attempting to convey for decades." I sighed, more than a bit disappointed with his platonic answer. He glanced at me curiously.

I smiled half-heartedly. "Gee, thanks for the compliment."

"You know I didn't mean it like that," he said softly.

I looked up at his apologetic face – he didn't even know what he did wrong. I tried to grin more genuinely. "Yeah, I know. I better go say sorry to Alice; like I said, I wasn't so nice to her before." I stood.

He put a reassuring hand on my elbow, making my heart seem to flutter at the contact. "Don't worry. I'm sure she's already forgiven you."

And it turns out she had. In fact, it seemed she was making all attempts, to act like nothing had happened at all. But that didn't stop her from guilting me into playing dress-up in all the clothes she had gotten for me.

Given the ability to make speedier clothing changes, you'd think that this couldn't have taken _too_ long. But no. Alice insisted on surveying each outfit, making me switch pieces to make it match better, deliberating the pros and cons of it, and so on. Everything seemed to fit perfectly _and_ look nice – a benefit of seeing the future, I assumed. Either that, or she'd had everything custom tailored for me, which I doubted.

She circled me, eyeing my latest outfit critically.

I sighed. This was going to be a long night.


	10. A Little Sport

A/N: I know, I know. Short chapter. But the piece that I wanted to add on to it made it a bit too long for my taste, and didn't fit together very well, either. Sorry for taking so long to update – things kind of got out of hand. I _really_ should be studying for my Chem SAT II right now, as it is _next week_ and I haven't even started (Yes, I do realize how shameful that is)…Oh, well. You know the drill, everyone...R&R ; )

-Lisa

Oh yeah, and Robert Pattinson is hot.

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

Emmett was bored. Jasper was bored.

And that was how it all started.

I have no idea how I got involved. First, I was playing the tortured victim of Alice as she made me try on clothes for her – to show my appreciation, she'd said. The next thing I knew, I was being corralled into a wrestling match because of a childish bet made between those two Cullen brothers. And I was not pleased.

We were all situated in behind Tanya's house, on the large expanse of grass that could loosely be called a backyard. First it was just me, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper. Then, Edward had heard – presumably from one of their minds – and was quite vocal in his defense of me; he didn't want me involved in their immature games.

The commotion had then inevitably drawn Rosalie. She'd loped gracefully into the backyard with a wide, genuine smile – a rare occurrence for Rosalie. "Oh this I _have_ to see," she'd said, eyes bright with wicked humor.

And, gradually, the rest of the vampires had managed to trickle out to watch the spectacle. My stomach sunk with each new face.

Now I stood nervously off to the side, intimidated not only by the gigantic menace that was Emmett, but also by the fact that everyone was going to watch. And _I_ was going to be humiliated – I didn't know how to prepare myself for this sort of thing, and I didn't know any kinds of…moves, or strategies. I'd only ever fought someone once.

I recalled my mind to my fight with Esme, trying to feel what I'd felt while engaged in action, while at the same time trying to block the circumstances of it out. I hadn't really had much presence of mind at the time, given the situation, but every detail was clearly imprinted in my head. I'd found my strengths, her weaknesses, and used them against her. In that case, I'd been able to physically overpower her. It had been relatively easy.

I doubted it would be the same with Emmett.

I glanced over at him again, eyeing his all-too-prominent, stone muscles with trepidation. Then Jasper sauntered over to me, smiling slightly at what he considered unnecessary fears.

"Don't worry, we all have faith in you," he said as his own artificial brand of confidence smoothed away some of my anxiety.

I laughed weakly. "You might, but _I_ don't."

Jasper shook his head, smirk more pronounced. "I can't wait to see you trounce him. He's not as scary as he looks." I narrowed my eyes at him, sure that he was only trying to convince me of this in order to win the bet.

He laughed again at my feelings of accusation.

Just then, a highly amused voice rose above the others. "A hundred dollars says that Bella's going to win," Alice sang to the group, grinning widely.

Eyes unfocused, Edward watched whatever possibility was playing through her head. "I'll take that bet," he said confidently, though he still looked a bit unhappy with what we were doing. But he wagered anyway. Sure – why _not_ attempt to make money off of my mortification?

"Us, too."

"And me."

My eyebrows rose incredulously.

"Hey!" Emmett shouted petulantly, brimming with indignation. I shared his opinion – why was everyone betting that I would win? I knew that if I had any money to my name, I would have undoubtedly put it on Emmett.

Irina rested a hand soothingly on Emmett's bicep, stroking it with her thumb in an admiring sort of way. "It's okay, Emmett. _I_ think you can win," she said flirtatiously, fawning over him. His wounded ego somewhat preened, he grinned triumphantly at the vote of confidence.

"Watch it, Irina." Rosalie's territorial voice lashed out like a whip, and Irina dropped her hand, like she was afraid that if she left it there, she would not have it for much longer. She stalked away from Emmett, muttering something about greedy, selfish females.

Esme spoke up. "Shall I referee?"

"No, I'll call it," Edward declared with a slightly protective sort of glance at me. Several pairs of knowing eyes glanced at him, then away.

My stomach did flips but I just raised my eyebrows questioningly, a hint of a smile on my face.

He shrugged, nonchalant. "Emmett can sometimes be overenthusiastic," he justified. "And I promised to keep you safe," he finished, still casual, but at a lower volume. However, it didn't go unheard by Esme, who tried to cover her smile demurely with her hand, and did not quite succeed. She edged away from the conversation, hurrying in the opposite direction as she tried to act like nothing unusual happened.

Edward turned to me after a long look at Esme's back. "Be safe, okay?"

"Why do you even have to referee? I thought something like this, just a little sport, couldn't hurt me?" I wondered.

"It can't, really. All the same, I'd rather be the one to keep an eye on things." He hesitated. "Rely on your instincts. Don't be afraid of him. You know how to defend yourself – it's just animal nature."

I nodded, trying to look like I understood. He walked away. And we were ready to fight.

Emmett stood opposite me, roughly fifteen yards away. Edward stood right in between us. "Alright, Emmett. You know the rules." He looked to me. "The first one to hold their opponent down for a count of three wins."

Then he moved out of the way, to stand on the peripheral of my vision.

"Begin."

Emmett sank down into a crouch, catlike despite his bulk. He grinned at me arrogantly before his lips pulled away from his teeth. A terrible roar came from deep within him – the vampire equivalent of badmouthing their foe. In response, my body went on autopilot. Instead of feeling like I wanted to run away, I responded to his challenge, dropping low into its own fierce stance, knees bent, fingers skimming the ground. A snarl began in my own chest, equaling his own.

His feet moved, and mine moved correspondingly. We moved closer – circling, making no overt moves yet, squaring each other up like predator and prey. It surprised me how automatic the motions felt.

He lurched forward, his hands reaching out to grab me, but I ducked and twisted away, faster on my feet than he was. His grasping fingers clutched nothing but air. But, more skilled than I could ever hope to be, he recovered faster, and lunged at me from behind. I ducked in time, but was less graceful in this attempt. Again, my inexperience denied me knowledge of what to expect, and I couldn't keep up with his confusing movements. He lunged at me from the side and threw me off balance, sending me to the ground. He pinned me, but, with difficulty, I managed to twist myself out of his grip. My arm met his chest with a loud crack. From then on, each time our bodies met, there was a hard clattering noise, like rock on rock.

Despite the competitive atmosphere, we were both holding back, as to not cause real injury. There was no pain involved, only the shock of impact as we collided, or hit the grassy floor. I could still sense Edward and the others around us, excitedly watching the fight, hearing their cries of satisfaction and discontent, egging us both on.

My body arched and distorted, eluding Emmett as he charged on me, trying to capture me. On a frantic whim, I managed to wrap my arms around his torso, and to my surprise, he couldn't break my grip. He fought and struggled, growling as I managed to hold him to the floor.

The count was called. On three, I released him. I rose from my kneeling position, my shock spelled clearly across my face. Emmett remained lying in position, banged his fist against the ground in frustration, then swore before getting up and walking away from the converging group. He was sore about losing.

Inwardly, I smiled, surprised that I'd managed to bruise his fragile male ego.

I received several claps on the back, and money exchanged hands. I tried to keep the glory of victory from making me smug.

Jasper found me again, and we both watched Emmett's back as he retreated into the surrounding environment, presumably to cool off. "Don't worry about him," Jasper assured me. "He's always like this when he loses – he can't stand it. He'll congratulate you later, though. And, not to mention, ask for a rematch."

The Tanya loped over, throwing a casual arm over Jasper's shoulders as she greeted me. "Well done, Bella."

Just as smoothly, Jasper ducked from underneath her arm, on the pretense of smoothing out his sandy blond hair. He smiled at me apologetically before drifting away towards Alice, who pulled him into the house with an adoring smile. Tanya watched him go, slightly disappointed.

"Thank you," I responded politely.

"You don't sound that proud. Or excited. A tangle like that must have been _some_ fun," she said, with a suggestive eyebrow raised.

"Rather than risk Rosalie's wrath, I have to confess that I'm not interested in Emmett," I told her, grinning. "Besides, if you think it would be so much fun, why don't _you_ participate?"

Tanya tilted her head playfully. "We're lovers, not fighters. Plus, I don't think that _my_ pride would be able to stand losing. And – at the risk of sounding improper – I, too, fear the wrath of the Cullen women." She grinned, and then shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I can't watch."

I raised my eyebrows. "Must every other sentence be an innuendo with you, Tanya?"

"Maybe it _wasn't_ an innuendo. If I were you, I'd get my mind out of the gutter. Or maybe I wouldn't. Who knows? With Edward hanging onto you everywhere you go, I guess I can't blame you."

I rolled my eyes, thankful that he was nowhere in sight at the moment – he'd disappeared sometime after my victory. It was a small relief that I knew he wasn't listening. "Get over it, Tanya."

She shrugged again. Looking over my shoulder, she said "I'd better go. It looks like someone else wants to talk to you."

Rosalie came and sat next to me on the green, nodding at Tanya as she past. "She can be persistent, that one. You should've seen her when _she _was pursuing Edward." She paused. "You know we're all just kidding, right? We don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I smiled at her consideration. "It's fine. I hardly even bat an eye at it anymore." Not true. "It's just a bit annoying."

She nodded, thinking that reasonable, before tactfully changing the subject. "You know, it's been a while since Emmett's been beaten so easily," she said with a lilting voice.

I glanced at her; she looked almost smug. "He's your husband; shouldn't you have been supporting _him_?" I'd noticed that she'd bet on me as well.

She laughed. "He may be my husband, but that doesn't mean I have to coddle him – Emmett's spoiled enough as it is. He deserves to be humbled every once in a while. It's good for him…. Besides, I wasn't about to back a losing horse."

"Why so sure that I would win?"

"Of all of us, Emmett relies the least on skill, and the most on strength. Just like a newborn. And considering that newborns are stronger, it makes sense that he would lose."

"Why are newborns stronger?" I asked, curious.

She shrugged. "I'm not too sure. Carlisle believes that it has something to do with the fact that their own blood still runs through their systems…which is what makes their eyes red, as well. After about a year, it runs out, all used up. Then, in your case, your eyes will be gold."

I sighed. "It makes little sense, doesn't it? No heartbeat, no need to breathe. We shouldn't be alive."

Her good humor vanished, and her lips pressed together into a tight line. "No. We shouldn't."

Rosalie, with her regal beauty and bold manner, was especially intimidating when angry. We sat there silently for a few minutes before I got up the courage to speak again.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't mean to upset you."

She leaned back on her palms, fingers threading through the stiff grass, which was poking out from underneath a layer of uneven frost. At first I thought that she wasn't going to answer. "Not your fault," she said sullenly. "I hate everything about this life. I'd rather be dead. The only things that make it bearable are Emmett and the rest of them." She shook her head. "But don't let _me_ make you bitter," she said acidly.

I didn't know how to respond. Her hard eyes glanced over at me, then went guiltily back to the ground. "Not your fault," she whispered, more to herself than to me. She then put on a fake smile. "Maybe you're right. I should go find Emmett."

She stood up, dusting off her pants, and then took off into trees. I noticed unhappily that it was in a completely different direction than Emmett had gone.

It didn't seem fair, somehow, that I was more content with my life than she was. Rosalie seemed to have everything, on the surface. And here I was, still new to it all, but so much more acclimated and satisfied than she was. I had to think that maybe Edward was right. Maybe I never was meant to stay human.


	11. Mixed Signals

A/N: Three words, my friends: School. Is. _Over._ Can you feel the magnificence that those words encompass? It's truly amazing. Read the Author's Note at the end of the chapter for more of what I've got to say…now Read and Review, lovely people.

-Lisa

Pride and Prejudice really is an amazing movie...watching right now. swoon/cry

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

I was lying on a couch in a rather lethargic position, limp against the cushions with the armrest supporting my knees. My feet swung lazily back and forth, alternately bumping my heels against the side of the couch. I held the television remote in my hand, absently flicking through the channels.

I tried to stay mostly still; I was afraid that if I moved too much, the itch to do something, _anything_ would come become unbearable. Alaska may have been beautiful, but it did not carry much in the way of entertainment… especially considering I couldn't actually be around other people. And we were just over the five-month mark – nearly half a year in this place.

I sighed.

Lately, a voice had been whispering things to me that went against my better judgment…persuading me to think that _maybe_ this isolation was unnecessary. And it was getting increasingly louder and stronger each day. I mean, I was making excellent progress with my control – or so they told me. I had been improving so much and so quickly over the last five months that I was nearly arrogant about it. I started thinking that, just _maybe_, I would soon be able to rejoin society. I longed for it. And I couldn't help but feel like the Cullens were holding me back.

I shifted uncomfortably, a bit ashamed of myself to be thinking such things. They had no reason to hold me back; actually, they would probably want to do the opposite...considering the fact that, because of me, they were cut off from the world, too. Maybe they just needed a kick in the right direction.

I sat upright, swinging my legs off of the armrest to place my feet on the floor. It had been five days since I last hunted – yet another improvement that showed my control. I was getting better able to rein in the thirst.

But five days were as far as my restraint went – my throat was dry, and the venom did nothing to soothe the burn that was always on my mind, no matter how sated I was.

Fives days were up. I was going hunting.

I was a mile into the forest before Edward caught up to me. I may have had a good head start, but he was a lot faster than I was, than anyone was. He seized my elbow, and I jerked to a stop. I looked innocently up into his face, which was stiff with anger.

"_Where_ do you think you're going?" he asked, outraged.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised at just how upset he was. "Hunting."

He released my arm to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. I groaned inwardly to myself; he was prone to overreaction, sometimes. "You _know_ you're not supposed to hunt alone, Bella. Don't you think we have these rules in place for a reason?" he said, his voice still irate.

"Must've slipped my mind." I went around him.

"Bella."

I turned back. He hadn't moved. "Yes?"

"That was irresponsible." I could see he was trying to calm himself down.

I gave in and walked back to him. "Maybe, maybe not."

He glared at me. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. I'm thirsty; are you coming or not?"

"Of course I am." I turned to go, but he grabbed my wrist.

I looked up at him, confused.

He exhaled. "I would appreciate some help, you know. I promised not to let anything hurt you. It would be easier for me if you didn't act so foolish." His eyes were a bit warmer now, pleading.

I would like to think that I had some say in the matter, but who could resist those eyes? "Fine, then. Let's go." He relaxed slightly and followed my lead.

I went farther into the green, breathing in deeply. I could smell several different targets from where I stood, and I tried to keep sane as the scents caused my throat to burn and the monster inside me to gnash its teeth in anticipation. No grizzly bears – Emmett would have been disappointed. There were some caribou, but they were slow. A lone moose too, but it was also an unattractive choice. I perked up at a new scent.

_Wolf_.

My teeth were bared, sharp and glistening, a predator's smile. There was a pack to the northeast, roughly two or three miles off. Seven of them. My feet started moving automatically, my body keen to taste its prey. The monster was gleeful – wolves tasted the best, most definitely. And they were vicious; it was laughable how useless their long canine teeth were against my skin.

I fed hungrily, drinking more than usual to compensate for the extra time I'd gone without. Four hours, three wolves, and a reluctant caribou later, Edward and I were perched on the ledge of the outlook, the sun veiled behind a thin covering of clouds, which was infrequent in Denali.

Edward had gotten rid of his bad mood, and I, for my part, was too busy basking in the glow of my hunt to care about much at all. Nothing, I'm sure, no feeling in the world compared to what blood was for a vampire. For the most part, I had gotten over my aversion to the whole idea – it was the lesser of two evils, and if it had to be done to spare human life, then so be it. Sometimes – like this one – I even enjoyed it.

But it was one of the only bright spots in this life. Sighing, I decided to talk to Edward about what had been on my mind before.

"You know, Edward, I don't know _why_ you bother to stay here." He looked down at me curiously from his cross-legged position; I had to crane my neck to look at him, as I was lying on my stomach. "This has to be horrible for you. The same thing, day in, day out. Not a moment's rest. I don't think I've ever missed sleeping so much. I can barely even remember how it _feels_."

He smiled wryly. "You don't appreciate what you have until it's gone, I guess. Unfortunate, but still true. I don't miss sleep; I can't remember what it was like at all, anymore." He paused. "Perhaps that's why."

"Yes. You can't miss what you never had," I quoted back at him. "Even if you just don't _remember_ having it." I stretched out, folding my arms on the edge of the outlook, and rested my chin upon them. My face peeked out over the ledge, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the wind in my hair.

"So you never get bored? Living a hundred-odd years has done wonders to your patience," I commented, only slightly mocking.

"I never said that. There's always room to be bored. But so many years of schooling _has_ rather numbed me to it," he said dryly. "High school is not one of my favorite things – it is its own little incarnation of purgatory. Or, actually, I used to equate it to sleep – if one defined it by the inert state between active periods."

I laughed. "So maybe the idea of sleep for you isn't as appealing as it is to me – if you're associating it with _high school_. That wasn't one of my favorite things either."

"Really? I was under the impression that you enjoyed literature; that copy of Jane Austen works you love is certainly tattered enough."

"Literature, yes. And the sciences. And maybe history, too. But math? And _gym_? Those two alone are enough to make me cringe at the thought of the public education system."

"Math? Gym? Ha!" he snorted. "If you ever decide to go back to school, you'll find that neither will be an issue."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I'll find a way. I can't picture gym as anything but torture. And math is completely beyond me."

"Were you so terribly ungraceful? I only ever saw you stumble the one time."

Now it was my turn to scoff. "You only knew me as a human for less than a _day_." I ignored when his expression fell ever so slightly. "Believe me – I'm sure that if I were still human, you would've no doubt had your hands full with saving me. I was _very_ accident-prone."

"A true magnet for danger, all things considered. But you have excellent reflexes _now_," he commented lightly, though the regret had not fully left his eyes.

"Even so, trigonometry is more than my life's worth."

He waved his hand lazily. "I think you'll find that your mind is more receptive to complex ideas – not that _trigonometry_ is so terribly difficult."

"Is that a compliment? Or an insult?"

He grinned. "Maybe a bit of both. But besides our obvious physical advantages, there are intellectual ones, as well."

"Careful, now. You don't want me to develop a superiority complex, too."

"_Too_?" He asked, mock-insulted. "What are you implying?"

"What happened to having superior mental capabilities? Can't you figure that one out for yourself? Maybe you're not that bright fork in the drawer that I thought you were."

He tried to look incensed, but failed miserably, the frown that he tried to maintain curling up uncontrollably at the edges. I smiled sweetly at him, enjoying the banter. He was a good friend. And I was determined to be one, too.

"Really, though. I'm in awe of your willpower – doing nothing for five months hasn't taken a toll on you at all. I, on the other hand, feel that it's driving me slowly insane," I said pleasantly.

"I never realized that you found my presence so terribly uninspiring. You provide all the excitement I need – with you, I'm always on my toes. Plus, it's nice to have peace of mind _and_ to be with someone at the same time."

I giggled. "I wouldn't exactly call you _uninspiring_. It's just that I'm used to being around a lot more people. Living in a city. I may not remember too much about it, but it still feels…empty, not being in a big, thriving place. Here, even with our hearing, it is too easy to slip into silence. Loneliness. But a city never sleeps..."

"Don't worry, Bella. Soon." He patted my back reassuringly. But then he just left his hand there, between my shoulder blades. I felt his thumb stroke along the back of my neck.

A sharp sensation alerted me to the fact that I was now biting my lip. Hard.

I carefully loosened my jaw before speaking. "You know what? You should go to Juneau. Or Anchorage, which is pretty close. Fairbanks is even nearer. Please? Let me live vicariously through you."

"Leave you behind? It wouldn't feel right."

"Please, don't deprive yourself on my account. You can even do me a favor while you're there – I've needed new reading material for ages. I can recite those works of Jane Austen word for word."

"I'll think about it," he said noncommittally, with a funny tone that triggered something in my mind.

That careful non-answer brought something distant from the recesses of my memory. I paused for a second, trying to identify the feeling. Nostalgia brought a slight smile to my face. My mind replayed the blurred memory of Renee saying the same thing so many times over, a vague half-response that she used when she decided that she wanted to play more mother and less friend – usually when I tried to take more liberties of my own than she was comfortable with. She'd known that I was capable of making my own decisions – she'd just wanted to exert some authority. Like when I suggested moving in with Charlie.

_What a mistake _that_ turned out to be,_ I thought, before I caught myself. That was just the vestige of an old thought…_now_ I looked at this more like fate. And a relatively happy one at that.

I didn't even notice that my little memory had disrupted the conversation, absorbed as I was in my thoughts. I could remember the shape of her face, and her eyes – just like mine – and the short brown hair with the paler streaks from the sun. But it didn't come together to make a full picture of her. And her voice was lost completely.

I sighed softly. I realized I missed her – the longing was faint, like the memory, but it was still there.

Edward moved, then, startling me out of my reverie. He turned onto his stomach, in the same position as me, but had to curl his legs at the knees in order to fit his taller frame on the ledge – the depth was too short to fit him. He rested his cheek on his folded arms and his face turned to me.

"Brooding, are we?" he asked with a probing expression.

I grinned slightly. "Maybe a little."

"Was it something I said?" he wondered, repentant.

"Yes. It just reminded me of something Renee used to say, that's all."

"I'm sorry."

I laughed. "Don't be. It wasn't a bad thing."

He nodded, eased. "Alright."

I faced forward, avoiding his gaze. It was _too_ intense, like he knew something I didn't. Instead, I looked down at the earth stretching below. It was spring, now, and the ice and snow had melted away to reveal the beautiful shape of the land. It was spectacular; in one corner of my vision a great splash of red covered the ground, bleeding into the surrounding gold and yellow and brown. I wondered what kind of plants they were, to be so vivid.

"One day we should go over there," I said absently. "Soon. So that whatever is over there will still be in bloom."

He grinned his crooked grin. "No time like the present."

So we went.

It was beautiful, but there was something deceiving about it. Whenever I took my eyes from the ground, the red was out of focus, out of my direct line of vision – I couldn't see the shapes of the flowers. The longer I looked away, the more uniform the color seemed to become, devoid of shadows and imperfections until it was just a solid swath of crimson. I looked into Edward's eyes, and all I could see was him standing in fresh, scarlet blood.

He smiled at me.

My answering smile was weak, at best. This place suddenly didn't seem so beautiful anymore. "What is it?" he asked gently, his voice floating over the light wind.

I looked away. The sun was setting, washing everything in gold, including us. We threw light everywhere, like mirrors, like tiny suns ourselves. I let the sunlight blot out my vision, trying to get the anxious feeling to dissipate. I smiled again, into the light. "Nothing. It's just amazing, is all."

"Bella? I –" he stopped. I turned around to look at him. He looked slightly uncomfortable. I wonder if this scene unnerved him, as well, in all its glory. The bright scarlet was gory and elegant all at the same time. I walked forward and grabbed his hand, leading him away from the stained ground. "I…" He looked down at my grip. I pulled my hand away self-consciously.

"Yeah?" I folded my arms over my chest, glancing back once at the red streak before turning around again. It was beyond ridiculous, how I felt.

I looked up questioningly into his eyes. "You look very pretty in that color," he offered up unexpectedly. Then he sighed and looked away, as if disappointed in something.

As for me, my eyes were wider than Bambi's. My lips curled up in pleasure, my issues momentarily forgotten. "Thanks," I mumbled. I looked down; it was just a navy blue blouse that Alice had picked out for me today. He was probably just being nice.

It was awkward for a moment. Neither of us could really think of anything to say. We were both looking away, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Bella?" he finally volunteered.

"Yes?" I said quickly, thankful for his breaking whatever weirdness had descended between us.

"There was something I wanted to show you," he said, sounding unsure of himself. "It's at home, though. Would you like to go?"

"Alright."

Not too much later we found ourselves sitting at Edward's – or, rather, Tanya's – grand piano. Edward's fingers danced over the keys, not actually pressing anything down. He looked like he was trying to reassure himself.

I gave him some time, but when he still hadn't begun after a minute of reluctance, my impatience got the better of me and I had to say something. "Edward? I thought you said that you were going to play me something? I was kind of looking forward to it."

He grinned a wry, crooked grin. "Of course. I'm just nervous that you won't like it."

I laughed. "That's highly unlikely. You're Edward – you can do everything, right? And besides, why would my opinion even really matter?"

"Because I wrote it for you," he replied matter-of-factly.

That caught me by surprise – I was touched. He had gone to that much effort for me? A brief "Oh," was all I could manage.

He raised an eyebrow at me before he turned to the keys. His fingers moved swiftly across the ivory as he wove a complex melody that seemed impossible to have been played by only one pair of hands. It was soft, sweet, almost like a lullaby…and yet somehow more hypnotic. Magnetic.

I couldn't help but move closer to him on the bench, to him and the music he played, until there was only a fraction of an inch between us, and the entire side of my body was practically flush against his. A slight tilt of my neck could place my head on his shoulder…but no. That would be too intimate, venturing into uncharted waters in whatever you could label our relationship as.

The music made him somehow more vulnerable, his emotions more transparent in the melodies than they ever were in his words or expressions. It was coming to a more melancholy key, and I could sense that it was near its end. The final note was the only sound in the otherwise-silent room. His fingers rested on the keys for a moment longer, almost reverently, before he turned to me.

I don't think we expected our faces to be so close together, but neither of us pulled away. I was still speechless – that was good, because I knew that any movement might startle him away. And I only wanted him to move closer.

But when he finally did move, it wasn't in the way that I had wanted – he'd turned almost shyly back to the keys, seeming to await a response from me. I was embarrassed to know that if I could, I would have been crying; the music, the way he just stunned me again and again…it was just too much. When I finally opened my mouth to say something, I was interrupted.

"Oh, _Edward_," Irina gushed. "That was amazing!" Edward winced, and we twisted to look behind us. The three sisters were seated on the stairs, watching us through the balusters that supported the handrail.

"Way to go, Iri," Kate grumbled, rolling her eyes. Tanya just sighed, then grabbed Irina's arm and dragged her upstairs. Kate stood, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, we didn't mean to intrude," she told us, before skipping gracefully back up the stairs.

I bit my lip to try to hide my smile. Edward shook his head, exasperated, and then looked back to me. I put my hand lightly on his shoulder. "Really, though. It was brilliant, Edward."

"You liked it?" he asked.

"I _loved_ it," I assured him. "I knew you were good, but I didn't know you were _that_ good. You wrote the song just for me?"

He smiled. "Yes. It was hard – there are some parts that I couldn't get just right. It took me a while – I wanted it to be perfect."

"It was." I dropped my hand. "You're very talented. Music has always been beyond me. I've been briefly instructed in three different instruments – I think – and I _still_ can't read music. I think."

Edward laughed. "We'll just have to teach you, then."

I shook my head. "No, let's just leave the music to you. I prefer to listen."

"A pity. I think we could have made beautiful music together."

Outside, a cricket chirped.

And I couldn't help but duck my head and erupt in a fit of giggles.

Edward looked so confused, and I laughed even harder. "What?" he asked.

Catching my breath, I shook my head. "Nothing. Just – I think the sisters really _have _corrupted me."

He was bewildered, but let it go. "Sometimes I wonder what's really going through that mind of yours." He paused. "Actually, no – _all_ of the time."

I grinned at him. "Trust me; some things are better left unsaid."

* * *

A/N: All right, all right. Again, I didn't get much done this chapter. A lot of the past chapters have just been fluff…but I'm just working all of the facts into it, to let them really get to know each other. This chapter was heavily book-inspired, as a lot of you probably noticed in the dialogue. And I didn't get what I wanted to done. But that part is mostly written, so…I'll be posting it within a week, instead of two weeks from now, as I usually – and unintentionally – have been doing. The more reviews, the faster you get the chapter : )

And yes, her favorite is wolf. I think of it as poetic justice. (wink, wink)

-Lisa


	12. One Mystery Solved

A/N: Hello, again, everyone. I want to thank y'all for reading/reviewing/etc. because I have now officially surpassed 10,000 hits. 11,000, if we're being technical. Which is kind of big. Or it might not be, I don't know. It just seems awesome. Anyway, I decided to update on my birthday – I'm now sweet, sweet **SIXTEEN **(and absurdly proud of the fact), which means that I'm able to legally obtain a student driver's license!…Once I summon the moxie to get one. Ha. Me, on the road. A sight to behold! I'm a bit of a car fanatic. I'm sure my parents are nervous just thinking about it. Ahem. And now I have to get back to my impromptu pseudo-party.

Oh, the horror of enthusiastic extended family…

-Lisa

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

It wasn't until two days later that I saw Carlisle. He and Esme had gone out together to hunt, among other things. Seeing Carlisle's patient, serene face triggered something, bringing back all of the irritation I'd felt before I'd last gone hunting. But, I reminded myself, he was only trying to do what was best for me,.

_But who gave him the right to determine what's best for you?_ asked the traitorous voice in my mind that I just couldn't seem - or want - to keep quiet.

With my last, particularly successful trip in mind, I decide to approach him with my concerns. I was becoming more skilled – I had been able to maintain complete control when I smelled the blood, and was able to consciously give myself away to the act of hunting. I could think coherent thoughts as I stalked my prey, could choose and zero in on my kills without losing myself the way I had when I was first changed. These thoughts made me smile.

Pride is a sin.

And I was a sinner. But then again, aren't we all?

So I went to talk to Carlisle like the mature, responsible, whining teenager that I was. I thought that maybe I could sway him to let me out of this cage that I had been in for just over five months. It was spring, and I didn't want to spend it so restrictively. But I was turned away.

"Can't we just try?" I begged him shamelessly, after he had refused me the moment the words were out of my mouth. "Please? I'm sick of being cooped up like a criminal. And I honestly think that I can handle it!"

Edward sighed in exasperation from his seat next to me. "You're not as strong as you think you are," he said in a lecturing tone.

I glared at him; he wasn't helping my case.

Carlisle leaned back in his seat, refusing to be swayed. "I'm sorry, Bella, but Edward's right. It's been less than half a year. The results could – _would_ – be disastrous."

I looked down at my fidgeting, impatient hands. I wanted _so badly_ for him to see that maybe I could handle it. It could even help me master my control!

"Then again," he continued, "it might not be such a bad idea. It could prove to be beneficial to her."

My head shot up, triumphant.

Edward looked at him like he'd just spontaneously grown wings. We all did, actually. With no warning, he stood up. "Are you _out of your mind_?" he shouted, raising his voice at his father for the first time in a long while. He respected Carlisle, almost revered him in some ways.

I myself was pretty shocked that Carlisle had given in so easily. Usually it was the parents' duty to put up a fight, and as my leading figure in that category, I thought that it could only be expected of him.

As if proving my thoughts he suddenly shook his head jerkily, his expression bemused. "I don't know why I said that…I know better. There is too great of a risk factor. God forbid things got out of hand – we wouldn't want the Volturi to get involved."

I groaned. How could he change his mind like that? "But you just said –" I nearly growled in frustration. "You guys could stop it before it got to that point – we have Alice don't we? She could see if anything were to go wrong!" I ignored Alice's alarmed expression at being put on the spot in such a fashion.

His face smoothed again. "I suppose you're right," Carlisle answered complacently. "There's no harm in trying. Alice could see if anything were to go wrong."

I sat back, blinking, even though I'd been ready to squabble some more. I was, apparently, winning the argument. But I had no reason as to why - they had seemed so adamant in their decision. And Carlisle was never so indecisive. His flip-flopping between decisions was confusing. Despite the fact that the conversation was turning in my favor, I couldn't help but think Carlisle was a little off today.

There was no outburst from Edward this time around. Instead he was looking worriedly at his father. Apparently, he thought Carlisle was a bit off, too. "Carlisle, are you all right?" he asked, probing through his thoughts.

He hesitated.

"Is there something wrong with his mind, Edward?" Esme asked worriedly.

Carlisle looked defensive, speaking before Edward could answer. "No, there's nothing wrong with my head, Esme." He tried to pinpoint his feelings. "It was just…odd. All of a sudden, it seemed like it wouldn't be so dangerous anymore."

Edward tilted his head curiously. "It was like his mind swapped identities for a moment – Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, like someone flipped a switch. It was essentially the same mind, but with two different personalities.

All eyes peered anxiously at Carlisle.

"What are you trying to say? That he's bipolar, or something? There's no way." Emmett said, not understanding.

Carlisle's eyes flashed. "No, _Emmett_. I'm not bipolar. I just…I'm not sure. My mind was just playing tricks on me."

Jasper looked alarmed. "Edward, make sure that nobody's in the immediate vicinity – any vampire that you can hear that doesn't belong." Half of the family stood up, alert, seeming to expect an attack. I didn't move, unsure of what to do.

"Nobody, except Tanya's family." Shoulders relaxed around the room, mine included.

"Are you sure?" Jasper demanded doubtfully.

"Positive," Edward responded, leaving no room to question him. I heard a muffled sigh from Emmett.

Alice, who had remained seated, was unconcerned. "Maybe it's not a stranger."

Jasper, always the military man, was still poised for action. "Who, then?" he asked his wife.

"Bella."

"Not this again, Alice," I sighed. "Can't you make up your mind, already?" I wasn't special. I wasn't powerful. I was just Bella. Mind control was way beyond me. "Last time I checked, you thought I could ferret out peoples' secrets."

"They could be intertwined," she supplied.

I covered my eyes with my hand; this wasn't helping my mood.

"She may have a point, Bella," Edward said.

I shook my head insistently. "I didn't do anything to him!" I said, exasperated. Why wouldn't they just listen?

I couldn't believe this; even Jasper looked like he thought the idea had some merit. "Maybe not consciously. But we're already established that you have some sore of power, albeit we don't know the extent of it."

Alice smiled up at her husband. I rounded on her. "But you said it had something to do with knowing things – secret, hidden things – without being told."

"Exactly. And you've shown us that time and time again."

Edward's eyes were unfocused as he eavesdropped on her train of thought. "You may be on to something, Alice."

"This is ridiculous," I grumbled to myself.

"No, it's not. This isn't the first time it's happened, Bella. Not long ago, we were in your room. You were getting frustrated with me. I unwillingly told you something that I hadn't intended to reveal." The memory of that moment flashed to my mind's eye, and I remembered the answer that she so passively gave up.

"For a brief moment, it seemed like there was no harm in telling you. My mind changed so suddenly, even though I had been decided for _weeks_." I narrowed my eyes, remembering my anger when she had told me her honest little prediction about Edward and I. Lucky for her, and for all of them, it had rarely been mentioned around me since then.

Rosalie raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Now, what secret are we talking about?" she pried innocuously. I rolled my eyes; it wasn't anything she hadn't heard already, albeit not in so many words.

I knew why I'd overreacted towards Alice, more so than the others that had chosen to bother me about it, though I hadn't admitted it to myself at the time: coming from her, it just seemed so much more _real_. More imminent…and I was scared. Of how I felt, and of how she might be wrong, and of how Edward might not feel the same. There were too many 'ifs' in the situation.

Alice smirked dryly. "If I hadn't intended Bella to know, why would I tell you? And don't even think about sifting through my head, Edward," she growled indignantly. "Some secrets should be kept. Speaking of which…" she trailed off suggestively.

Edward held her gaze for a long second, then mine. I nearly grinned as he subtly mouthed the word _band-aid_. He turned to his father. "Dad? I haven't been totally honest with you," he began delicately, with a wry smile. "Considering the issue we're trying to solve at the moment… I think it would be prudent to inform you that I can't read Bella's mind."

Shock and confusion flared up throughout the room.

A crease formed in between Carlisle's pale white-blonde eyebrows. "What?" he asked, incredulous. "What do you mean, you can't read her mind?" he said, as if he didn't understand what Edward could have possibly meant. I wondered briefly how Edward had ever managed to keep this secret for so long. A half-year was no short span of time.

"My power doesn't work on her. It's like her thoughts are on a different channel, one that I can't access. Like she's on A.M. and I'm only getting F.M."

"How is that possible?" Emmett asked suspiciously.

"We're not sure," I admitted.

"You knew?" Esme asked, confused. She turned to Edward. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Edward looked at me from the corners of his eyes. "I suppose I was afraid of seeming…weak," he said slowly, echoing what I had said to him not so long ago. "At first I thought that maybe there was something wrong with my ability, but then I realized that I just couldn't access her thoughts. She brought out a vulnerability that I never anticipated."

"For how long has this been going on?" Jasper asked quietly.

"Since I met her."

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "I'm guessing that this must be connected, then, though I don't know how. It can hardly be a coincidence that I…can't distinguish her emotions." Everyone became just a shade darker confused. "But it's only recently been like that, and only in brief flashes, once in a while. It's like, at those times, that she can't feel anything," he hurriedly corrected himself.

"It's like she's not even there." This, the brothers said in unison.

Edward's eyebrows furrowed. "I heard you think that, once…I didn't know what you had meant at the time."

Ah. So that's what all those odd glances from Jasper had been about. And I had thought that he'd known about my feelings for Edward…I smiled an inconspicuous smile of relief.

"Maybe she's unconsciously weakening your gifts," Rosalie offered.

Jasper shook his head. "No, that can't be true; otherwise it'd be happening with all of you. It's only Bella that we can't feel…hear. Sometimes. Maybe it has something to do with what she wants, even if it _is_ still unconscious?"

"When I said that it's been like this for me since I met her, I meant that it's been working on me since before, when she was still human," Edward clarified. "So that wouldn't make much sense."

Carlisle looked very intrigued. "While she was still human? Really?"

I smiled at him. "Well, what I'm feeling is already so transparent on my face…my mother used to call me an open book," I said fondly. "So it would be a natural thing, me not wanting anyone to know what I'm thinking," I finished, half-joking, deciding to briefly entertain their theory.

"But why conceal your emotions from Jasper?" Rosalie asked pointedly.

I fought to keep the grimace from my features, hoping I wasn't about to be humiliated in front of the whole family. I tried to relax. But I didn't even get a chance to respond before Jasper pointed something out. "You're doing it again."

Carlisle spoke up. "Okay," he said slowly. "Suffice it to say that it _is_ in fact, happening. The cause doesn't really matter." I threw him a grateful look. Rosalie, however, didn't appear mollified, but she let it go.

Alice perched her chin on the palm of her hand, her finger absently tracing her lips. "But how should I put it?" she asked herself. "Hmm." She deliberated upon what to say next. "I still think…that her power, whatever it is, revolves around perception. On one hand, it's like an overly sensitive attention to detail – she can pick up on things that she can't possibly know, see things that others can't."

I knew what she was referring to: how I'd known intuitively about her and Edward's gifts…and how I'd seen right through Esme's persuasion, to the fact that she wanted me to be Edward's potential mate…and how countless other things had just _come_ to me over the course of my stay with the Cullens. I knew it was hard to deny her little theory, and not to acknowledge the truth in her words. But there was no way that _I_ could have a power – and being a know-it-all didn't count.

She continued. "On the other hand, though, she can actually _change_ the perceptions of others. She can make Edward and Jasper think they can't read her mind or her emotions. She can make me think that it's okay to tell her my secrets. She can make Carlisle think that there's no harm in letting her, an untried newborn, loose upon society."

"I think she's right," Esme said in support. Nobody else spoke.

Alice sighed, frustrated with the lack of response. "She's like Jasper," she continued. "He knows the emotions of others, and can influence what they feel. It makes sense then that _she_ could possibly be able to have some sort of extra-sensory perception, as well as the ability to manipulate the perceptions of others."

"So what you're saying is, me and Jasper can both have our cake and eat it too?" I asked acerbically. Rosalie snickered, appreciating the sarcasm.

Alice went on, unfazed. "Why not? At first, Jasper didn't realize that he was affecting the emotions of others, as well as sensing them. When he gained conscious control over his ability, it became much more well-pronounced." She folded her arms, convinced of her belief.

"Well, it's a start. And I have to admit, it makes sense. It's the best explanation we have," Carlisle said broodingly. "These things never completely add up, anyway."

I was silent, debating whether or not I could believe what she was saying.

Emmett looked at his sister. "It sounds like you've been thinking about this for a while," he said playfully.

Alice grinned. "A bit."

Jasper was the only one who did not appear amused. "This is dangerous. This _could_ be dangerous."

"Why?" Rosalie asked.

"She's powerful. Some people might not like that," he said simply. I suddenly felt a chill, though my mind told me that it wasn't possible for me to feel cold.

Edward stole back to my side, and his arm came securely around my shoulders, a natural gesture. It erased the cold feeling.

"No one has to know."

As much as I would have loved to stay there, I shrugged out from under his arm and headed upstairs. I just couldn't escape my pride. Since _when_ did I need to be protected from anything? I was stronger than any of them - physically, at least. Maybe not in the sense of control, but I was getting there.

He followed me to the door of my room, barring me when I tried to close it behind me. For once, I almost wanted him to go away. Almost.

"What is it, Bella?"

I glared at him through the gap in the doorframe. "This doesn't change anything."

His eyes tightened infinitesimally. "The point is moot. I'm not going to let you go, regardless."

Furious, I tried to shut the door on him. The groaning wood protested. _He_ wasn't letting me? Who did he think he was?

He pushed back, and I nearly stumbled. "I don't think that Tanya would appreciate you abusing her home this way," he said unkindly, slipping in and closing the door behind him with an ominous _click_.

"It would have been _your_ fault, at any rate," I griped. "Get out of my room."

"No."

I huffed, turning on my heel to a corner of the room that was as far from him as I could manage. I didn't care that I looked like and was acting like a brat.

"Look, Bella. We need to discuss this, since you're obviously not going to just let the matter go," he said, his velvet voice harsh.

"Obviously. Because you're _wrong_."

His temper started to escalate, his eyes flashing. "You think that trying to help you is wrong? You think that you know so much better, a freshly-made vampire with seventeen, wise years of _human_ experience?"

"I know what I _feel_," I hissed.

He threw his hands up into the air, letting them fall as he shook his head to himself. "What you feel. Oh, really? Have you ever felt the call of human blood without taking human life? Animal blood is _nothing_ compared to it. Nothing. You don't know _anything_."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even look at him. It hurt to have him bring up Charlie, and throw that in my face.

He continued his rant. "Damn it, Bella. I really don't know what it will take for you to _get the message_." he hissed angrily. "You already know what being around humans can do to us. You killed your own _father,_ for God's sake!"

I recoiled as if I'd been slapped.

He was right. They were all right. How could I have been so _stupid_ as to assume that I could control myself? How could I not have learned my lesson?

My face crumpled.

Edward glared at me, his hands clenched into tight white fists, too angry to even breathe. But then he realized what he said. "Oh, no. No, Bella. I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to say that."

I sank to the floor and buried my face in my cupped hands. I couldn't even cry the way my body remembered. "It doesn't matter – you still would have thought it. Because it's _true_," I cried. "I'm such an idiot. I don't know why I have to be so hardheaded, all of the time!"

Edward grimaced. "You're not an idiot. I am. And tenacity is one of your charms, Bella. My loose temper is more at fault here. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He sat beside me and threaded his arm around my shoulders.

I shook it off; I didn't deserve his sympathy. "You had every right to. You were mad at me – with good reason."

"I wasn't mad at you. Never."

I shook my head. "Don't try to be nice; I don't deserve it. You were mad," I insisted.

"Yes."

"But you just said –"

"That I wasn't mad at _you_." He pulled one of my hands away from my face, holding it in his own. "Can't you see, Bella? Don't you understand? I'm never angry with you – how could I be? You're so brave, so resilient, even after all of this has been thrust upon you. You actually seem _at ease_ with everything now, or else that's the only side of you that you let us see."

"Then why?" I asked, almost in a daze. His cheek was so smooth, yet so hard and angular, just under my palm…

"I infuriate myself," he said gently. "Everything you have to go through now is a result of my own decisions. You shouldn't have to worry about your bloodlust, forced into hiding because of fear that you'll kill. You should just be a normal girl, in a normal school with normal friends and family with normal lives. You're too _good_ to have been exposed to all of this."

"I thought we decided not to blame you for everything anymore," I said glumly. "I thought that we were blaming fate."

He smiled sadly at my effort, releasing my hand as he moved to lean back against the wall. "That still doesn't completely wipe away the guilt. You have to understand. When I was…well, before I met you, I used to think that monsters like us couldn't have souls. When you were changing, I was horrified to think that I could have taken that away from you."

I gasped. "Why would you ever think that?" He thought he was soulless? I was horrified at the thought.

"Well, with everything I've done, the things I've seen, I used to think that we couldn't possibly have souls. You don't know what some of us are like, Bella. The ones who don'tfollow our lifestyle…they're cruel. They have no conscience. And _they_ are what _we_ are – if they don't have souls, then we don't, either. No matter that we choose to retain whatever essential humanity we can."

"No, Edward," I admonished softly. "I don't know where we all come from…evolution, creation, I don't know. But if there _is_ a God, then I don't think that he would completely abandon one of his creations that way. You are what you're made to be. If they exist, then whether or not you're going to heaven or hell depends on the choices you've made, not your _species_."

He sighed, the sound weary and worn. "I realize what you're trying to say – to an extent. But it's still hard to believe after ninety-odd years of thinking that way. Though, now…now I know you. And it's impossible for me to think that _you_ couldn't have a soul."

I couldn't help it – I hugged him. He was the most sincere friend that anyone could ask for. "You, too." I whispered into his shoulder, and then drew back.

He smiled at me. "Maybe that's true. But that doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to heaven. It might be too late for me, even if you're right about my soul."

"No, it isn't," I disagreed quickly.

"Well, 'Thou shalt not kill,' _is_ commonly accepted by most major belief systems. And I've killed a lot of people, Bella."

"Only the bad ones. And I have, too." I paused. "It feels like we've had this discussion before."

"Yes," he agreed with a short laugh. "It seems to be a never-ending cycle of guilt. What a tragic pair we make."

"Well, it doesn't have to be this way."

"Easier said than done, I'm afraid." I shook my head. I knew we would change that sooner or later. I hoped it would be sooner, now that most everything was out in the open.

I sighed. "It feels like we've been fighting a lot, lately. Maybe Jasper's been toying with our emotions."

"I wish that was why. But he knows better."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you know the actual reason, then?"

He shrugged. "I might."

"And will you tell me this reason?"

He tilted his head. "Alice wants you, downstairs."

I narrowed my eyes at his diversion. "We're not done with this conversation, you know."

Edward grinned crookedly. "I know."

"And when will you tell me?" I pried.

He smoothed away a few stray locks of hair that obscured my face.

"Soon."

I smiled as I headed down the hall. He _would_ tell me. Or I could make him.

I hoped.

* * *

A/N: Review, please. It makes me ridiculously happy to open my email and find that so many people like this story. It really means a lot to me.

-Lisa, the Newly Sixteen-year-old Spidermonkey


	13. A Long Time Coming

A/N: I, um, just wanted to comment on how amazing everyone is (blushes). I got a lot more reviews than I expected, so I wanted to thank all who did. Thanks a million, guys.

And by the way, there's this file on my computer that has a bunch of little oneshots I'm working on in between ADD updates, so give me an idea (canon or AU, but not AU human - our species is boring), if you like...I could use the suggestions, as the plot bunny doesn't like to visit me often. And when he does, he usually only leaves a lump of coal, just like Santa Claus. I think it's a private joke – I never asked.

Anyway, here it is. I hope you'll like it. And without further ado…read and review!

-Lisa

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

He was quiet, for the next few days. I didn't bother him, letting him sink into a feeling of relative security – maybe if he didn't feel pressured, he would tell me sooner what was on his mind. Either that, or I could take him by surprise. Both would lead to an advantage, I was sure.

I didn't like him having secrets from me. I trusted him implicitly. Well, with everything but my one, big secret, if I was being honest with myself. But that didn't help what I was feeling – I wasn't used to being so in the dark. I wondered why my power hadn't already enabled me to flush out whatever he was keeping to himself...

Edward had been distant…but still friendly. Sometimes I thought he was only acting, though. These were the times that, when I didn't know it, when it was too late for me to follow, he would head up to the outlook alone. At least, that's where I _thought _he was. I was too afraid to go after him, because of the restrictions I now adhered to – I didn't go outside by myself, let alone run the long, isolated miles to the outlook. Now, I was too afraid.

But it was a rarity that humans traversed the interior of the park, as it was rather large and probably easy for them to get lost. Not to mention all of the wild game that probably deterred them away. And hunters weren't allowed inside – the Denali home was conveniently located on a reserve that had strict hunting regulations. As in, it wasn't allowed. Alice could see whenever a human wandered into the area.

Still, I was cautious, even though my patience with Edward was running out.

And finally, just as I was about to get up the nerve to ask, he launched a preemptive strike.

We were in my room, at the time. Edward stared thoughtfully at the cherry-colored shelves that adorned part of the pale red walls. His hands were occupied with several CD's from the collection he'd amassed – a while ago, someone had retrieved many of their possessions from the Cullen home in Washington. His music collection had claimed many cardboard boxes. Now, he was trying to introduce me to music of previous eras. It wasn't any chore – I knew Edward had very good taste in music.

The bed in my room was large, seeming to take up even more space because of its fluffy, eye-drawing cream-colored comforter. The color matched the ceiling, which I stared at blindly as I listened to the music he had put on.

Despite the very homey, very antique feel that the Denali lodge carried off so well, it was very high tech. I realized that vampires never went halfway in anything. All of the laptops, stereos, televisions – all of it was of the newest, highest quality. I felt like the singer was in the room with us – a crooner, romantic, very Sinatra-esque.

My eyes traced the engravings on the moldings that lined where the ceiling met the walls. Bored, they then switched over to look at Edward. His expression amused me – music was one of the things Edward took most seriously. He flipped over the CD case, once more thinking over the tracks on that particular album.

I smiled lazily. He was so handsome in the moonlight, or what was left of it. Dawn would be breaking soon. But it was still dark in the room. I hadn't turned on the lights – I preferred the darkness to the artificial clarity.

The best part about it was that Edward seemed completely unaware of his own allure. How could he be so ignorant? The sisters were the opposite of subtle, not to mention the fact that he read minds. How could he not notice the way eyes followed him everywhere? He was like a reincarnation of Adonis, for God's sake.

I tore my eyes from him. How much worse could my obsession possibly become?

The music faded to a low instrumental. At first I thought it best not to disturb him at the moment, but I decided against it. I knew that if I didn't get him to talk to me soon, I would slowly be driven insane. He _owed_ me an explanation.

But before I could speak, he placed the two piles of his CD's, stacked, on the shelf. He didn't even bother to line them up with the rest – that was my first clue that he had something besides music on his mind. He turned. "Want to go out?"

I frowned, crossing my legs and pressing my bare toes into the soft comforter. I wanted this to go _my_ way. Or no way at all. "No," I said offhandedly. "That's fine. I hunted just the other day."

He tilted his head, evaluating my expression. I kept my face smooth – I was going to be in control of the situation for once, not him. I folded my arms beneath me to support my neck.

"So you don't want to go?" His tone was skeptical as he looked out the big window. He knew I hated being cooped up.

I shrugged my shoulders, the movement awkward in my position. "Nope. I was planning on enjoying the company of Rose and Emmett. She wanted to teach me about cars. And he's going to help somehow, I assume."

"Ah." He nodded. Then he smirked slyly, turning the full force of his eyes on me. I felt trapped, but not in a bad way. "Not even to the outlook?" he asked in his liquid voice. Before I knew it, I was wearing a tiny, dazed smile on my face.

"Sure."

He grinned in victory.

The smile slid off my face as I stupidly reviewed my own compliance. Why did he have such a power over me? It shouldn't have surprised me anymore – Edward could do anything. I was play-dough in his hands.

"Excellent."

I scowled at him. "Let me just go explain to Rose where I'll be. I'm sure she'll be very disappointed – after all, I _did_ commit to her first." Maybe she could get me out of it. Rosalie was more persuasive than I – she could make anyone do what she wanted, simply with the silent threat of her bad mood if she didn't get her way.

But she was no help at all.

"Come _on_ Rose," I begged, voice low. I had already warned her not to let Edward's mind into this little conversation.

She smirked, her catlike eyes spelling clearly her amusement. "You already have my answer." She examined her nails. "Besides, I thought you had _wanted_ to speak to him?"

Now I regretted having confided in her about Edward's distance. "On _my_ terms," I growled.

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"Where's Emmett?" It was obvious that she wasn't going to budge – that, and she delighted in having me beg.

Her smirk widened. "He won't help you."

"Alice?"

"Preoccupied with Jasper. And I doubt you're invited to their little tête-à-tête."

I stamped my foot on the ground in anger.

She laughed. "Newborns. Always so emotional. Remember what a big baby Emmett was?" Then she paused. "Oh, right. Never mind."

I may not have been there, but I _had_ heard of Emmett's embarrassing behavior when he was just turned. He had not been able to believe that someone as pretty as Rosalie was real. His angel. "Oh, yes. Because we all know you _hated_ having Emmett follow you around like a lost puppy."

She raised a perfect, blond eyebrow.

"Is that so different from you and Edward?" she asked archly. I think I was angry that she had a point, more than anything else.

I took a deep, calming breath before I turned and walked coolly out of the room. She wasn't going to help me. And she had Emmett by the short hairs, which meant that he wasn't going to help me either. And Alice was...unavailable. So I guessed that I had no other choice. I reluctantly returned to Edward.

When we got to the outlook, his earlier playfulness was gone, and he wasn't speaking again. His hand played incessantly with mine, and he looked at nothing in particular as we huddled in our favorite place. I tried not to pay much attention to his mood; it was just another one of his quiet spells, I assumed. But usually, he was much more relaxed when we were here.

I'd planned to be confident, coaxing the truth out of him before he'd even known that he'd given up his secret. After all, I'd had no trouble at all finding out what Esme had wanted that one time. And getting at Alice's secret had taken barely any effort, besides my own willpower. Edward shouldn't have been any different.

But I was too insecure, too nervous. I kept thinking that maybe it was a bad thing, and that he wanted to say something gently, without hurting my feelings, but knowing that it was inevitable. That's what stopped me from trying to use my power – I was too afraid of what I would hear.

My chest constricted.

Maybe he wanted to tell me that he'd been frustrated with me, that he'd _wanted_ to be my friend, but he knew that I saw him in a different way. Maybe he thought that it was better to just end our closeness because it hurt him to know that I wanted more, or he felt too awkward around me. Maybe Alice had been wrong all along; her visions were subjective, and nothing was set in stone.

In a frantic attempt to get my mind off of that train of thought, I said the first thing that came to mind. "You'd think that someone Emmett's size would come with a backbone, wouldn't you?"

He gave a short bark of laughter, not expecting such an arbitrary comment. But as that faded, his smiled turned a bit mechanical, his mind obviously not at all on the conversation. "Yes. He can't deny her anything. He loves her too much to do anything that makes her unhappy."

"It's amazing that she found him the way she did." Maybe he would get on with it if I kept him talking. And I was anxious for him to finally speak to me – I knew that this would be pivotal.

"Mmm." I'd lost him again.

We lapsed back into silence once more, and I began to feel more ill at ease. He usually wasn't so subdued around me. I panicked a bit; had I done something wrong? I didn't think so – and his fingers were still toying with mine, which was probably a good sign…

Ugh. Patience had never been a virtue of mine. I didn't really want to ask him so directly about what was bothering him, but I was beginning to feel that I had no choice. It would be better for the both of us if everything was out in the open.

"Edward?" I tried again.

He glanced sideways at me for a moment before his eyes flickered back to the view. "Bella," he answered.

I was silent until he looked at me again.

His eyes were flat black in the shadow of the stone above us, his expression enigmatic.

"Why are we here?"

His mouth twitched. "Why is anyone here?" he answered vaguely.

My eyebrows came together in confusion; I didn't much feel like playing word games or riddles. "We're here to discuss the great mysteries of life, then?" I asked.

"One of them."

"One of them," I repeated.

He pushed away from the corner, away from the shadow of the upper lip of the alcove, dragging me with him. "You aren't going to ask which one?"

I shook my head. "I figured you would get around to that sooner or later."

He smiled. "Forgive me. I just need time to…gather my thoughts."

Edward took his time about it. He still quiet, but somehow I felt more at ease. Every now and then he would start to hum – I recognized the melody of what I now thought of as my lullaby.

The light from the rising sun reflected up from the patches of smooth stone amidst the rough, to glint dimly against our skin. I idly observed the effect it had on Edward in particular, lending him the ethereal countenance of an angel – when he wasn't looking, of course.

I folded my knees to my chest, pulling his hand to rest atop one so that I could better examine it.Even with my eyesight, I still couldn't figure out how it worked. I couldn't see the facets in our skin that made us glimmer like diamonds. We were something more subtle.

His hand was very light against my knee, like he was nervous about being close to me. I frowned as I leaned closer to examine the iridescent skin. Was he uncomfortable being so close to me? I almost let go and returned his hand to his side, fretting again that he was here to end whatever kind of connection we had made.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" He was staring at me intently, more engaged than he had been before.

Again, his lulling voice unwittingly pulled the truth from me. "I was wishing that I could know what _your_ thoughts are. And that I wasn't afraid." I eyed him musingly. "It seems like we suffer the same problem," I added, referring to the mind-reading.

"And you would like a fair trade, I suppose?" he murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he began. "You told me what you were thinking – though I'm confused as to why. It's only fair that I share with you, as well."

"You don't have to, if you don't want to."

The corners of his lips turned up slightly. "I know. But I do."

I turned my body so that I was facing him instead of the precipice, his hand still clutched firmly in my own. "Go ahead."

He was still hesitant; I could see it in his face. "I will. But –" his face was somewhat apologetic, "will you explain your thoughts to me first? Tell my _why_ you're afraid, not sparing my feelings?" Sparing his feelings? Now I _really_ wanted to know what was on his mind.

I nodded in acquiescence. "Well, sometimes…" I searched for a way to phrase it without giving myself away. "Sometimes you feel so…distant – and though you try not to act like it I know your thoughts are somewhere else. I…I'm afraid that maybe you regret the fact that we're friends."

He stared at me in disbelief, but did not yet say anything. Maybe he was shocked that I'd found him out. I guess I was learning to trust my instincts – my power.

I continued. "It's just, when I look at you, you're just so…interesting." I cringed; that had not been the first word I would have chosen to describe him. Something along the lines of incredible, charming, accomplished, or brilliant would have been more appropriate. My choice seemed woefully inadequate. Sort of like _I_ was, compared to him.

"Sometimes you seem to lack patience with me – always so easily frustrated." Around him, I often felt like I was a hindrance, a burden, something to be endured. "Maybe you _have_ grown bored with me, and are too polite – too much of a gentleman, like Esme says – to let me know. I wouldn't blame you."

He looked down at his hand, wrapped in my own, before speaking quietly. "I think I've had all the patience in the world, when it comes to where you're concerned."

I looked at him doubtfully. We seemed to spend our fair share of time arguing with one another.

He shook his head tiredly. "After a hundred years, my patience is all used up. I've never felt this way, not in my entire life…and to always have you so close, but unable to do anything about it? That would make _anyone_ a bit intolerant."

I still didn't understand. "Do anything about what?"

He looked almost angry as he registered my confusion. "Bella, do you really think so little of yourself?" He pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair in irritation. "And do you think so little of me, as well? Have I been so terribly unconvincing?"

He sighed. "To think I've grown bored with you, that I don't want to be your friend…that's the most ridiculous concept I've ever heard!"

My head was spinning. He was making no sense.

Then his mood changed again; his smile was sad, voice soft. "Bella, you mean the world to me, never doubt it. I'm telling you now, so there can never be any confusion on the subject."

"But…" There had to be a 'but' in there somewhere. I didn't have the luck necessary for this godlike creature, this Adonis, to possibly have grown any type of attachment to me.

"But nothing! You're different from anyone, so different, and for the first time I…" He hesitated, his voice strained. "I don't know what to say – how to say it. Bella…" he sighed. His eyes were agonized, melting smoldering…I forgot to breathe.

"Bella," he whispered. "You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me _ever_."

And then, I knew that I had to be in some sort of trance; vampires did not sleep, but I didn't feel like I was awake, either. Because this couldn't be real. I had never felt more disconnected to gravity. I was soaring. I was euphoric. I was scared. I was surprised beyond words – which was good, since I couldn't actually speak. I couldn't do much at all as I stood there under Edward's all-too-welcome assault.

One of his hands rested lightly on my hip, as if unsure if it should be there. The other cupped my face, and his thumb stroked the length of my cheekbone. His torso lightly grazed mine, but I found myself wishing that he would crush me against him. Every part of me that he touched felt tingly and scorching in an oddly pleasant way that made me want more.

His lips, though…they were what I could _really_ feel, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. His mouth moved gently against mine, showing some hesitance, some insecurity. His lips were so smooth, so satisfying that I forgot how to breathe and couldn't remember how to start. If I thought the scent of him was good, then his taste was even _better_.

After only a few seconds of this – though they seemed infinitely shorter and longer at the same time – he suddenly pulled back several inches, evaluating my reaction. Then he pulled back completely. "I'm sorry," he said abruptly.

I stared at him blankly, shell-shocked. "For _what_?" I asked stupidly, when I retrieved my ability to speak. My voice sounded unusually breathy.

He couldn't meet my eyes. "For – well, I thought that maybe…that you felt the same way as I did. I misinterpreted things. I apologize for being so forward with you." At the end, his tone reached a formal note, even as he cringed.

A rather large, foolish smile appeared on my face. Laughter bubbled up my throat, but I did not quite have the air necessary to give it voice. First he kissed me, and now he admitted that he liked me? _He liked me?_ Maybe – though not likely – as much as I liked _him_? I could have slapped myself for being too surprised to respond when he kissed me. There my first kiss went, wasted.

That would not do.

"Edward," I said.

He turned to me, his face grim, probably expecting me to attempt to let him down easy. His expression became confused when he saw how happy I looked.

I threw myself at him, closing the distance between us and boldly pressing my lips against his. My kiss came with a lot more enthusiasm than he was expecting, and he fell backwards, leaving me half in his lap in order to reach his mouth. I felt his lips curve up against my own, and his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer.

In the moments our lips were apart, he whispered to me. "You'll be the death of me, Bella Swan."

I laughed in a hushed tone. "You're indestructible, Edward Cullen."

"Only if you promise to stay with me forever." His eyes were so serious, so resolute. He wanted me. _Me_, Isabella Marie Swan, the most unremarkable of the unremarkable.

But he made me feel beautiful.

"I think I can arrange that."

He was practically glowing with unbridled joy as he leaned down to kiss me one more time.

* * *

A/N: I'm giggling. Right now, as I type. What did ya'll think? I'm so nervous. I'm giggling some more. And no, the story ain't over, folks. It's only just begun.

Again, I feel an inordinate amount of happiness whenever I open my email and get to see what everyone says about this story. So please review – it means a lot.

-Lisa


	14. Clearing the Air

A/N: I can't remember how many reviews said something along the lines of "Finally!" That cracked me up, big time. Anyway, I got a whole lot of reviews for last chapter, so thank you all, again. Sorry if I took long to update – I got a virus on my computer about halfway into the chapter, which I had not yet saved. I got pretty mad…couldn't write for a couple days. But I got over it.

Hope you like it. Read and review, folks.

-Lisa

* * *

**A Different Decision**

**By: Twilighter**

I pulled away with a great amount of reluctance, figuring that I would have to sooner or later. Judging from the experience, I decided that given the choice, I would gladly spend the majority of my time kissing Edward. Even though I had nothing to compare it to, there was no doubt in my mind that it was incredible. _He_ was incredible.

Since I was still practically on top of him I moved to sit by his side instead, not wanting to intrude on his personal space. Not that he had seemed to care much a moment ago, but I was trying to be polite.

I sat on the ledge and let my feet hang into the open air; I had stopped being uncomfortable with heights several months ago. Edward stretched his legs out and leaned against the vertical part of the outlook, watching me. Every time I looked at him, a silly smile came to my face. I didn't even have the capacity to be embarrassed by my behavior; I was too far gone. And it helped that he was looking up at me in much the same way.

There were questions in his eyes, but he remained quiet, serenely tracing his fingers up and down my forearm, making me feel ticklish and jumpy, but in a good way. It was very odd – all of the earlier awkwardness was gone, like it had never existed in the first place. We were left in our own happy, comfortable little bubble.

"Don't you think it's strange?" I asked quietly. "I mean, I expected us to need time to adjust to this," I said, gesturing in between us.

"I would have though so too, now that you mention it," he said. I reached out my hand to comb my fingers through his hair. It was in a greater state of disarray than usual – possibly because my hands had found it while we were kissing.

"We don't, though…it's as if we skipped the transition period. It seems like it's been this way all along. But it feels…natural."

"Yes." He tilted his head. "Friends often make the best lovers."

I blinked at him. Lovers? I processed the word at arm's length. I would have to get used to that. I wondered how he meant it – merely as a title? I still had no idea just what he felt for me – or I for him. Not really.

"We already know each other so well," he continued. "There are no big, dark secrets between us, like…places we've been, people we've killed, and such."

I raised an eyebrow curiously. Usually he didn't mention those sorts of things so cavalierly. It seemed that nothing could darken his mood right now. I could relate – I was sure that cloud nine was no better than this.

Suddenly inspired, I grinned mischievously. "Are you _sure_ about that, Edward?"

He smiled. "You've been keeping things from me?" he asked, pretending to be affronted.

"Stop being sarcastic," I snapped impishly. "I could be related to the Mafia, for all you know. You don't have any idea what you could be getting yourself into."

He snorted. "Yes. I'm sure that the Mafia had an outpost in Forks, of all places."

I rolled my eyes at him. "And how am I supposed to know if you've kept anything from _me_?"

"Other than being especially talented in knowing other people's secrets?"

"Why are you avoiding the question?" I shot back.

"Fine. Secrets. Like what?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "I don't know, take your pick. Government assassinations, money laundering, larceny…a secret girlfriend or two," I suggested, my intent blatantly obvious.

He laughed. "Is _that_ what you're getting at?"

Indignant, I refused to look at him.

Edward sighed, still amused. "No government killings, though Alice _does_ know who really assassinated Kennedy. She'll tell you, if you really want," he baited.

He reached up, presumably to toy with my hair. But I impatiently brushed his hand away. I heard the smile in his voice as he continued. "And yes, we have laundered money – but only our own, and for security reasons. It's really a hassle to transfer all of our assets each time we start over, you know," he informed me. "And whatever we've stolen was covertly repaid, so we're not really thieves in the traditional sense of the word."

He gently tilted my face back to look at him. I let him, this time, only slightly unwilling.

"However, I think anyone can testify that you're the first girl who's ever caught my eye," he said softly. "I _told_ you, Bella. I've never felt this way before."

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask.

He nodded. "Yes. Ask Emmett – he delights in that fact, and frequently reminded me of it before you came along."

I frowned. "Emmett teased you because you were alone?" I asked, feeling defensive of him.

He tugged one of my hands down, pressing my knuckles to his lips, effortlessly replacing my smile once more. "Don't worry about it; before you, I _was_ alone – but not lonely. There's a difference. I just laughed it off whenever he tried to bother me. I was arrogant enough to think that I wouldn't ever need anyone the way my family all loved their mates."

There was that word again.

I decided then that I needed to know what I was getting into before this went any further. I needed to know what he felt about me, what I was to him. We needed to go into this with our eyes open. All I knew was that I must have been special in some way, though I didn't know why – after all, I was the only one for him in over a hundred years.

I took a deep breath. "You think I'm pretty. You wrote me that song. You kissed me, Edward. Is this…I mean, is this like –" I was unable to properly phrase what I wanted to say.

His eyes bore into mine as my words drifted to a halt. "No," he whispered.

My face fell and I stiffened, but he was already speaking again. He lifted my chin with his fingertips. "Please, Bella. Let me finish." His thumb lightly crossed my lips, effectively silencing me. "No, I don't think you're pretty – I think you're beautiful. You _inspired_ me to write that song, like nothing else ever has. And that kiss…I don't want it to be the last, not even close. I feel so selfish with you. I've taken your choices, your life…and now I'm asking for your love, too?"

"You love me?"

"I – yes, I do." That was what I needed to hear, but now I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with that knowledge.

My lips were parted, ready to speak, as I searched for something to say. I was frozen. _Did_ I love him? Sure, nearly my every thought was fixated on him. There was no doubt in my mind that I was obsessed with him, to an unhealthy level. But love? I didn't know how to label what I felt for him.

I could tell he was waiting, not impatiently, for me to gather my thoughts. He let me take my time, drawing me into another kiss, his arms not letting me pull back when he broke away. "All this time I've walked this earth, thinking I was complete in and of myself, not realizing that I was really searching for you," he whispered. "And now that I have you, I wonder how I ever managed to live without you. You are my life, now."

For all he made me feel alive, I could barely breathe.

"Like I said, you're the first girl to catch my eye. The only girl who _will_ ever catch my eye," he swore to me.

The way he said it, it was so final. I could feel it too, in my bones. We were made like stone – we rarely changed, but when we did, it was permanent. Like this. That permanence, that irrevocable feeling stronger than anything I'd ever felt…I realized that it couldn't be anything else _but_ love.

I was a fool. How can I not have realized this sooner?

"We're all fools in love," I whispered against his lips. The cliché line fit perfectly to describe what I felt. I kissed him again with all the fervor of my epiphany. "I love you, Edward."

"And I love you," he murmured back. He shifted us so that I was lying on my back, on top of him. His arms circled me, and I relaxed into his embrace. The warmth I was feeling had nothing to do with the bright sunrise, which cast us in a mixture of bright red-orange and pale yellow. We watched the stars fade.

I sensed that we would have to leave, soon. We couldn't stay here forever, as appealing as the idea seemed.

He sensed it too, shifting behind me. "I suppose it's time to go?"

"Yeah," I said, though my tone implied the opposite. I mourned that this had to end so soon. I didn't want to let go of this free, peaceful feeling just yet.

He was just as unwilling as I was. "Don't worry. We can take our time, love."

I kissed him again…and again. I felt greedy – I couldn't get enough. "Okay. I'll hold you to that."

He kept his word.

We walked – _walked_ – the miles home. The distance seemed to stretch itself longer under our feet. It was no small trek, taking us most of the day to cross it. This was good; I was sure that neither of us wanted to endure what was waiting for us at the house. I cringed at the thought of every 'I told you so,' that would be directed our way, verbal or otherwise. I felt doubly bad for Edward, knowing their thoughts.

I didn't let the prospect bother me, thoroughly enjoying the time we had left. I twirled, lighthearted, skipping in circles around him as we walked, conveniently forgetting that I couldn't dance. He watched and laughed with me, sometimes spinning me like a dance partner. We talked about little things, simply appreciating each other's company. He paused every now and then, capturing my body to hold me still as he kissed me deeply.

I basked in the warm rush I felt each time he did this, thoroughly enjoying the complete lack of boundaries we had up around each other.

Gradually the terrain grew much more familiar. We were nearly at the house, maybe a mile away. He took a hold of my wrists, pulling me close, and I thought he meant to kiss me again. But instead, he spoke.

"Don't be too upset with them, Bella." He could hear their minds from here, I remembered. "They've been waiting for this for a long time, apparently." He leaned forward, resting his cheek in the juncture of my neck. "It seems that we were the only ones who didn't see this coming."

I shivered at the feeling of his breath, his lips on my throat.

I laughed shakily. "And it still seems so hard to believe. You're a dream, I'm sure."

"A nightmare," he corrected, his mouth moving against my skin with his words.

I heartily disagreed. "Never. But this still seems so impossible." His mouth moved further up, to the corner of my jaw, below my ear. My eyes closed of their own volition.

"Mmm," he breathed. "And why is that?" he asked, his voice husky.

He had no right being able to make me feel this way. Half-incoherent, I replied, "Because you love me."

He pulled away. I almost groaned at the loss of contact. "What are you doing?" I whined. "Come back."

"No," he said sternly. "First tell me why it is so impossible to believe that I'm in love with you." I sighed. Why was he making a big deal out of nothing?

"It's just that you're better than any dream I could have imagined. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you. You're amazing," I told him. He could never be told enough. He was perfect.

"I think you're amazing, too. I also think that the way you regard me is ludicrous," he added.

"Seriously?" I asked. "You're really quite dense, for someone who reads minds." He was like the ideal guy, in so many ways. But he was better than that – he was also flawed, and real, which made me love him more.

"If you say so," he said dryly.

"Really, Edward. Any girl would bless her luck a thousand times over if they could have you." He shook hid head. "For someone to not appreciate you…she'd have to be a fool not to see how remarkable you are. Either that or blind and deaf. Maybe not even then, actually."

"The girls you speak of are those who never look any deeper than face value. If they knew me truly they'd run away, screaming as they go."

I tsked at him. "I'd like to think that I know you very well, and _I _never ran away from you."

He smirked. "It's not _my_ fault you have bizarre reactions to everything. You hardly ever act in your best interests. But still – you never answered me."

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you find it so impossible that I love you? We've gone over my insecurities. Now let's go over yours."

I grimaced at him. "_Now_?" I complained.

"You said that you don't know what you did to deserve me."

"Yes, I did say that," I acknowledged, not knowing where he was going with it.

"Why would you think you had to anything? Just being _you_ is enough," he informed me seriously.

I scoffed.

He decided to take another direction. "Did you know that, at first, I was resistant to Alice's theories about your gift? She'd been formulating it for a while before she told you all, and I'd had my doubts. Do you know why?"

I told him I didn't.

"I thought that if you could feel other people's hidden secrets, you could _surely_ feel mine, obvious not only in my thoughts, but in the way I acted around you….But you _never_ said anything. I didn't know if you kept silent out of kindness or out of ignorance. You really didn't know?" he asked, unsure.

"No. I told you: it seemed – _still_ seems impossible. I never thought you could be interested in someone like me."

His eyes saddened. "Maybe your own misguided perceptions about _yourself_ biased you against what you could have realized about me. Maybe you wouldn't let yourself believe that I loved you," he said, his voice gentle, but somehow troubled at the same time.

I ran my thumbs across his lips, trying to smooth away the frown. Why did it matter to him? We were together now, and that was all that counted.

"I've felt this way for a while, you know. I've felt it since nearly the beginning."

We had that in common, at least. "I did too."

He asked one more question. "Have I ever said something to make you believe I think you're anything less than perfect?"

"No."

"Exactly. Nothing. And you told me you trusted me – _I_ think you're perfect, and that's all that matters," he said, with a note of finality in his voice.

I smiled. "I think I can deal with that." Anything to get him away from this topic. Especially since it wasn't very important.

"Good. Now let's go face the firing squad. I'm sure they're anxious to see us."

I ruffled his hair. "Like you'd have to _guess_."

He grinned crookedly. "I suppose not. Let's go."

We were ambushed as soon as we opened the door.

"Welcome home, dear ones!" Tanya sang from the top of the stairwell, her voice echoing around the entrance hall.

Jasper, much more dignified, stood near the stairwell, a buffer to ward off the brunt of the attack. "Alice couldn't keep it to herself," he said apologetically. He smiled at us, subtly easing our nerves. I looked at him gratefully.

"We weren't wrong to expect this, then," I said, smiling wryly up at Edward.

Kate appeared at my elbow. "Come," she said, tugging on me. "You simply _must_ tell me everything!"

"Tell _us_," Tanya corrected. I saw a flash of light blonde hair behind her. "We want to know how Edward went about wooing you. Was he charming? Or did he act like an ungainly teenage boy?" she laughed.

Edward threw her a scathing look, tightening his arm around my waist.

"Really, Bella! I imagine he was very gallant about it. But Tanya's convinced he was a bumbling, nervous wreck. And Alice won't tell us a thing." There was that, at least, to be grateful for.

"Maybe because it's _private_, Kate," I rebuked.

"Nothing is private in _this_ house, lovely Bella," Tanya corrected. "Not with all the mind-reading and clairvoyance and all the other voodoo that's floating around in here."

I saw Esme peek in from the arch that led to the living room. She was the typical, nervous mother hen, wanting desperately to know what was going on, but loath to do anything to upset the situation. Carlisle appeared at her shoulder, nodding at us before smiling and pulling his wife back. "They need _some_ room to breathe," I heard him whisper.

"Let's go hide," Edward urged.

All too willing, I disengaged myself from Kate and started to drag him towards the staircase. "Bye, Kate," I said, ignoring her disappointed face.

"I could make you!" she called after me.

"But you won't," I said back.

Before we made much progress, a streak of black hair and white skin met us at the foot of the steps. "Bella!" she sang. She threw her arms around me. Holding me tight, she whispered in my ear. "I guess that now you're _really_ part of the family. Not that I ever doubted it to begin with."

I grinned into her spiky black hair, returning her hug. "Thanks, Alice."

Edward pulled Alice away by the scruff of her neck, like a wayward puppy. "Goodbye, sister dear," he said, prodding her gently aside as he fled up the stairs with me in tow.

"Don't worry, Bella. We'll talk later. You, too, Edward!" she sang. I heard her and Katrina chattering excitedly, not loud enough to make out the words.

"They act like we've gone and _eloped_, for God's sake," I giggled, taking the stairs two at a time to keep up with him. "They really are pushing their bounds as third-party observers." We reached the hall.

"I agree. Yet I find it hard to summon up any unhappiness with their behavior… I'm _far_ too content," he murmured as he nuzzled my neck. I had to admit, I liked this new, silly and affectionate side of Edward – I was all the more besotted by him.

"This isn't fair," Irina muttered angrily as we passed her and Tanya.

Tanya hushed her. "Be happy for them, Iri," she scolded.

"I _am_ happy for them," she whined, pouting. "I just don't like to lose," she said, accentuating the last word with a stomp of her foot.

"You'll get over it."

I smiled into Edward's shoulder as we fled down the corridor to his room. I knew she wasn't _really_ upset – the sisters never formed strong emotional attachments to anyone, besides anything platonic. I'm sure their collective romantic history was summed up by serial one night stands. What really disappointed her was that she'd lost the chase; they had a simpler, more epicurean outlook on life, and the thrill of the hunt was what they all lived for. She was just less adept than her sisters in recognizing a lost cause.

Or maybe not so lost, come to think of it.

Because Edward was finally mine.


End file.
